


To owe you so completely

by merrymaya



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Clueless Brienne, Consensual, F/M, Happy Ending, House Lannister, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I promise, Jaime is an asshole, but he has reasons, gotta love them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2020-09-06 22:54:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20299276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymaya/pseuds/merrymaya
Summary: “The Lord of Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister and his promised, Lady Brienne of Tarth!”The announcement made the whole Court look at them as they entered the room. Brienne was cringing inside, and she felt a bead of sweat run slowly down her temple.That, and her clammy hands were the only proof of her nerves as her face was as serene as she could make it. As they entered the ballroom to pay their respects to King Tommen, Brienne asked herself for the twentieth time how she got into this situation. Looking at Jaime's smirking face, so near hers, she remembered why.Lannisters and their debts.





	1. To see you again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JailynnW](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JailynnW/gifts).

> Hi, Braime fans worldwide! Here's my first fic about Jaime and Brienne. After season 8, they deserve all the love and support they can get! I hope it will be a story as interesting to you as it is for me.
> 
> I tried to be original but I fear that everything had already been done. Still, if it looks like one of the stories out there, then I'm deeply sorry and assure you that the story came from my head (and a documentary ^^). 
> 
> Disclaimer: Jaime and Brienne are not mine, of course. They and the world they live in belong to GRRM. Thank the Seven he doesn't browse the internet, for he would be horrified at what we do to Jaime and Brienne just so they could bang in the end! Lol
> 
> Thanks: A big thanks to JailynnW! Thank you, my friend, for inspiring me with such compelling stories and for believing that I can contribute something to this marvelous fandom with stories of my own. If you hadn't talked with me after Season 8, I would have probably turned to alcohol lol.

“The Lord of Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister and his promised, Lady Brienne of Tarth!”

The announcement made the whole Court look at them as they entered the room. Brienne was cringing inside, and she felt a bead of sweat run slowly down her temple.

That, and her clammy hands were the only proof of her nerves as her face was as serene as she could make it. As they entered the ballroom to pay their respects to King Tommen, Brienne asked herself for the twentieth time how she got into this situation. Looking at Jaime's smirking face, so near hers, she remembered why. 

Lannisters and their debts.

  


She saw him in the Riverlands, after years of separation. Having heard of the siege of Riverrun, she decided to come see him, for she had a matter of the utmost importance to discuss with him. Something which couldn’t wait one moment more. She traveled with Pod from the North to his camp at break-neck speed. Even then, it meant a few weeks of travel on hostile land with meager resources as the cold had been biting and the game sparse. The journey had been harsh on the travelers, and they were both wary and exhausted when they approached one of the gates of the current Lannister’s camp. 

The camp was surrounded by a massive palisade made of wooden stakes and wood watchtowers at the four cardinal points, each tower towering over one of the gates. The camp was also situated on a high motte which meant they dominated the landscape around them so nobody could approach the camp without being seen first. The only way in was to officially enter by one of the gates. The alarm had probably been sounded, for a group of ten guards were waiting at the gate and Brienne estimated that at least five more were probably hidden in the forest around them. 

The soldiers cared not a jot about her demand of meeting their commander, refusing to even pass along her request, seeing as she didn’t have a password or an official letter stating her purpose in coming there. Her petition had provoked the soldiers’ hilarity until she showed them Oathkeeper’s handle. The lions etched on the handle and the valyrian steel of her sword had made them doubt. She also showed them the letter Jaime gave her, the one with the royal signature. Only then, one soldier had left the group to get his commanding officer. 

After passing that hurdle, Brienne and Pod had to wait for Jaime’s answer. She didn’t fret, for she understood that it took time to reach the commander and get his instructions. Pod, however, was nervous and it made his horse anxious. As the boy struggled to control his mare, the guards began to throw suspicious looks at each other. She wanted to curse, for she just needed a moment with Jaime and she didn’t want to have to defend herself over a misunderstanding. She was thinking about leaving when the soldier came back, an expression of pure disquiet adorning his young face.

“My Lady,” he bowed low and all the persons present looked at him in bewilderment, Brienne included, “if you would follow me, you will be directed to the Commander’s tent. He shall be there presently.”

Passing the gate, an ocean of red met her eyes as well as organized chaos. Lines of red tents, small and big dominated the space. And where there was no tent, there were people abound. A never-ending flow of carriages transporting goods, soldiers minding their tasks, servants running to complete an errand, animals led by squires. After weeks of near-complete silence with only Pod for company, Brienne was overwhelmed by the proximity of so many folks. 

She was led to a small tent, of those given to foot soldiers. Her horse and Pod’s had already been taken by a squire, and the soldier requested that she took off her armor for her squire to clean it. She appreciated the well-spun courtesy but didn’t need the lie. No one would let an armored stranger near their Commander. She was glad they didn’t ask her to leave her sword behind, as it was part of the reason she came here in the first place. She nodded in agreement and he disappeared with another deep bow. Pod helped her and disappeared, probably to find some rags and cleaning solution. 

She had the time to wipe her face and neck with a wet cloth she found in a bowl near the tent’s cot when she was summoned again by a young man. He was a skinny boy, with brown hair and the beginnings of a beard, and a sunny smile. “Well met, My Lady.” He bowed deeply. “I’m Peck, the Commander’s squire. I came to bring you to his tent if you are ready. My Lady.” 

As she followed Peck into the brimming camp, she didn't expect Jaime to have time to see her so soon. He was surely a busy man, having to command such a vast amount of soldiers and resources. She could not see the end of the camp, her only indication of its boundaries being the four watchtowers. She wanted to stay with Pod, but he was taken away and was probably roped into helping the other squires. He, at least, helped her out of her armor before going. She would have been worried about him, but he had seemed to recognize some of the squires there. She would let him enjoy himself, maybe even let him stay here if it was his wish. 

Peck brought her to Jaime’s tent immediately, to her grand surprise. For all that she came here with the purpose of seeing him, she was not ready for this moment to happen. Their _final_ encounter. The occasion to see him one last time -a terrible indulgence. She breathed in relief when she saw the empty space, as the squire bowed again and left, after telling her to wait a moment. She let herself take in her surroundings. 

His tent was luxurious, divided by large panels of cloth into different spaces. Carpets were covering the hard ground, overlapping sometimes and giving a comfortable space to walk on. She was in a solar _complete with a large empty table and some chairs. She could see what was probably his sleeping space containing a large cot piled with furs, chest and personal supplies. A wooden stand for his armor was also present in another smaller area, a grand standing mirror to its side. One of those spaces, half-obscured by a hanging panel, revealed a tub. It made her bite her bottom lip for she craved a bath. There was not a lot of furniture but it all screamed wealth. She could see that the best materials had been employed to create this. 

She was soon ill-at-ease, feeling strangely undeserving of even standing in such an opulent space. She began pacing in his tent, nervously waiting for his arrival, her hands rubbing each other and her muscles tense. She tried to calm herself by taking deep breaths then releasing them slowly. She had nearly reached a peaceful state of mind, when his voice filled the air, clearly amused. 

“I do hope I am not the reason for your anxiety, Lady Brienne. For I remember us parting as good friends,” said Jaime with a smirk showing his dimples. She flushed a deep shade of pink when she saw that Jaime had caught her in such a state, and the pink on her cheeks turned to crimson red as she saw that he was not alone. A red-haired man was looking at her with interest, one eyebrow up and his lips pressed together to contain his smile. Jaime didn't look away from her as he dismissed the other man. “We will talk later, Addam. I will send for you when I am finished with the Lady.” Addam bowed then retired, leaving them both alone. 

“Ser Jaime”, she said and heard her voice waver in horror. It was enough to drop Jaime’s smirk and he approached her quickly. 

“What is it Lady Brienne? Are you unwell in any way? Should I call for the maester?” He was examining her, looking at her from the top of her hair to the bottom of her boots, searching for the origin of her malaise. 

“It is nothing of a corporeal nature, I’m afraid,” she whispered, tears choking her throat. She unlaced the belt holding Oathkeeper and knelt before him, her head bowed low. She put what had been her most precious possession reverently on the ground in front of him. She took a deep breath. 

“I failed in my quest, Ser Jaime,” she could barely see as her eyes blurred with tears. “I searched the lands, looking for Sansa and found only a tomb. Upon my arrival in the Eyrie, they showed me that the one I sought to protect died as she reached her aunt’s castle. They took me to her grave. I failed in keeping my promise to Lady Catelyn and in restoring your honor.” Her tears made a muted sound as they touched the ground, more and more often as her grief grew. “You put so much trust in me, more than anybody else and I couldn’t fulfill my duty.” Her body shook with her sobs and she could barely go on. But continue she had to. “I return Oathkeeper to you, as I do not deserve to be its keeper.” She prostrated herself until her forehead touched the ground. “I am sorry, Ser Jaime, so…” 

She couldn’t finish as she broke down in heavy sobs. The silence only compounded her guilt, and she understood that he was disgusted at her attitude, probably wanted her gone from his sight. She was still sobbing when she felt his left hand grip her right upper arm and try to tug her up. She deserved to stay on the floor, but she didn’t want to irritate him more than he surely already was, so she let herself stand up and follow him. He probably wanted her gone. But instead of taking her to the tent entrance, he took her past his campaign table and the separation behind it.

“Sit,” it was said gently but firmly and his hand tugged her down this time and she obeyed. The sitting surface folded a little under her weight. “Wait for a second,” he ordered again then his feet disappeared from her field of vision. In the silence, her sobs sounded loud so she worked hard to calm herself, wiping her face harshly with her sleeves and sniffing several times to stop the snot from falling down even more.

A shadow moving on the floor showed Jaime’s return and a wet cloth was presented to her with a grunt. She hesitated and he sighed, the rattle of a chair being dragged in front of her followed, and the golden lion sat in front of her, their thighs touching. She could see the scabbard holding the valyrian sword being propped on the side of Jaime’s chair. She still didn’t dare to look at him, or to take the cloth dangling from his hand. She, however, couldn’t help but look at him when he said, “I refuse to take Oathkeeper back.”

As she went to protest, he quite rudely put the cloth on her face and began to rub as if he was washing his braies in the river. She cried in protest but he just continued on, rubbing her cheeks and her eyes, like a mother would clean her child’s face after the meal. “Stop moving,” he growled, “I used to do that for Tyrion, as he would always have dirt on his face when he was young.” He seemed fond, even as she felt the burn of his ‘tender’ ministrations where he rubbed against her skin. He was about to wipe her nose when she took the cloth from him and declared she would do it herself. He chuckled softly as she wiped her face again first, barely less harshly than he did, then wiped her nose, flushing at the thought of him seeing her with snot. 

She sniffed one last time. “Thank you,” she said in a low rasping voice. He nodded in acceptance and continued to look at her without speaking. She couldn't stand the silence and decided to escape from his presence as she couldn’t take more humiliation at the moment. “Ser Jaime, I will…” He stood up and she stopped immediately, the words dying on her lips.

“I will not talk to you today. You will calm down first, eat and sleep here tonight, then we will continue this discussion tomorrow.” He threw Oathkeeper on the table near the cot and she startled. “It is still yours!” His tone was fierce, nearly angry. He then walked out, making any protest a moot point.

She let herself fall spread-eagled on the furs, breathing harshly, the wet cloth falling to the floor. She stared at the roof of the tent, her fingers caressing the fur on his cot and not understanding how she finished the day in his bed. She hadn’t had the time to appreciate the irony as her eyes closed, her body and soul exhausted from her encounter with Jaime Lannister, the man she loved. 

  
  


Jaime breathed deeply, profoundly disturbed by all that happened since Brienne reappeared in his life.

The intense joy at seeing her, then the worry slowly morphing into horror when she bowed down to him. He had wanted to help her up, but she had exploded with tears and it had paralyzed him. The experience had been so...unexpected, that he hadn’t been able to react. As if it was not the most excruciating experience already _to see her brought so low, for he never wished to see her thus_ she had to think these horrible things about herself. That she would debase herself in such a way broke him.

That she had wanted to give him back Oathkeeper, that she had wanted to give back his h…

And he couldn’t do anything because even hugging her would be improper for they were nothing to each other…

He opened his eyes. Looking at himself in the mirror, he could see his determined gaze. They were nothing to each other… yet. For he had a plan, and this plan will change everything. He smiled in anticipation. 


	2. Never confront a Lannister

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “The Lord of Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister and his promised, Lady Brienne of Tarth!”
> 
> The announcement made the whole Court look at them as they entered the room. Brienne was cringing inside, and she felt a bead of sweat run slowly down her temple.
> 
> That, and her clammy hands were the only proof of her nerves as her face was as serene as she could make it. As they entered the ballroom to pay their respects to King Tommen, Brienne asked herself for the twentieth time how she got into this situation. Looking at Jaime's smirking face, so near hers, she remembered why. 
> 
> Lannisters and their debts.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Braime fans, hello! Here we are again for the second chapter. Now, I couldn't wait to post this one. Hope you will enjoy it as much as I do. 
> 
> I tried to be original but I fear that everything had already been done. Still, if it looks like one of the stories out there, then I'm deeply sorry and assure you that the story came from my head (and a documentary ^^).
> 
> Disclaimer: Jaime and Brienne are not mine, of course. They and the world they live in belong to GRRM. I wouldn't mind them belonging to me. Jaime wouldn't have finished under rocks for sure!
> 
> Thanks: A big thanks to JailynnW! Thank you, my friend, for helping me make this story a little less crooked and a lot more believable. Our braime conversations are a balm to my heart after season 8. May the Seven throw D&D into wildfire!
> 
> Thanks to everybody who reviewed, gave kudos or even simply read my story. It was a pleasure to get to know what you thought about it. Hope to not disappoint with this one!

  
\-------------------------------------------------------

CHAPTER 2

\-------------------------------------------------------  


Brienne found herself once again in Jaime’s presence, seated in front of him on one side of his campaign table, Oathkeeper on her lap. He was able to receive her only in the afternoon, for he had to scare his lazy soldiers into doing their numerous tasks. At least, that’s what the message she got in the morning from his squire explained quite humorously. It was a jape but she knew that it still contained some truth, for camp’s life made for standing soldiers, which in turn made them lazier and dissipated.

It had helped her too in a way, to calm down a líttle more before seeing him agaín, even if nervousness was creeping again as the time of their meeting drew near. Peck finally came to her after the midday meal and led her to the command tent, where Jaime was waiting for her, alone and already seated. 

She took a deep breath. “Ser Jaime,” she said formally with a bow. A flat ‘Lady Brienne’ was returned likewise, Jaime smirking as if the sight of her formality amused him. She was sure that the greeting was surely droll after seeing her so… abandoned the day before in her grief. Yet, she needed the stiffness to be able to endure their future parting. She needed to detach herself already, to sever the ties as soon as possible.

“Please, be seated my Lady, for you tower over me and I fear greatly for my neck.” Jaime was already in fine form as she could see, her forehead contracted in a frown. She would have sat with pleasure if he hadn’t acted thus.

“I prefer to stand, my Lord,” she straightened her back even more, so he would really strain his neck. She had wanted to be humble, and part on good terms; but the man deserved no courtesy. 

“Good,” he smiled appraisingly at her and she startled, “I prefer you quarrelsome over the wreck you were yesterday!” His gaze softened, became _would she dare say_ nearly fond. “Now, would you sit down with me, Lady Brienne, for we have a lot to discuss. Tell me about your journey.” 

She took a deep breath, expelling the last of her anger at Jaime, and sat. Tracing the grain of the wood of the fine table with distracted fingers, she began to talk. Her fingers traced long curves as she explained about the Riverlands and her vain hope of finding a girl of three and ten. She explained that after nearly a year, she had been afraid that the girl was lost forever. Her fingers scrubbed at an ink spill when she talked about deciding to go to the Eyrie. Then her fingers traced the rim of the cup posed near her at some point in her story, but unseen until this very moment, as described her trip to the Eyrie and the tiring fight with one of the tribes there. Her despair when hearing that Sansa Stark was gone forever.

She finally looked at Jaime with infinite sadness. “I finally understand that I am no knight. And the songs do not talk of the failed quests and the lost souls. I know better now.” A tear rolled down her cheek, and she violently wiped it with her sleeve. “I came to bring you back Oathkeeper, which deserves a better owner than it had. I am not worthy of such a mark of trust, nor deserve your confidence in my abilities.” 

She carefully put the magnificent sword -the most precious possession she ever had- on the table in front of him; and he took it in his fist, gripping the scabbard so tight that his skin turned white with the pressure. “I thank you for the great honor you gave me, even if I wasn’t up to the task. I wish you all the good in the world, Ser Jaime Lannister.” Her voice broke in the end so she bowed deeply _but quickly_ and made to leave.

“What will you do now, my Lady?” 

She stopped on her way out, stuck. _What will she do now?_ She didn’t think that far to be truthful. She knew she had to give him Oathkeeper but she didn't know what would happen to her after that.

“I…” she didn’t know what to say. Jaime talked again, cutting her thoughts short.

“I sent you on an impossible quest which you took upon yourself with great courage and alone. As such, you deserve only praise. The only thing I did was send you to fulfil our oath, and I am proud of the measures you took, and the dedication you showed to accomplish our goal.” He said firmly, leaving no doubt about his sincerity. She inhaled sharply and closed her mouth, for she was this close to burst into tears again. 

“And now you offend me by giving up Oathkeeper?” His tone became darker, he suddenly sounded angry. “For I find it gravely insulting that you give back a gift so precious now that it is of no use to you!” Brienne was shocked to her core, her world falling around her again at Jaime’s sinister turn of a mood. He threw the sword on the floor and she jerked, frightened. “That’s how I feel you are treating me, Lady Brienne. Now that you are done, you are throwing my friendship away like I just threw this piece of steel!” He was enraged, looking at her with hate. This was the Jaime of the early days, when every look was a killing glare. When every stare contained a plan to kill her on the first occasion. She wanted to wrap her hand around Oathkeeper’s hilt in reassurance but didn’t dare move.

Jaime was now calculating her coldly. “If my friendship is of no more value to you,” she shook her head in denial, but shock held her words of protest in her throat. She understood that she hurt him deeply. Her gesture, instead of conveying sadness and justice, was interpreted as high-handedness. Guilt was consuming her, overwhelming. “Then as mere acquaintances, I demand payment for services given.” 

“What?” She finally could open her mouth, even if she was barely heard. 

“You heard me perfectly, my Lady.” The polite form of address was said with disdain, as if she barely deserved the title. He turned his back on her and picked up Oathkeeper and put it on the table, while she blinked back fresh tears. She may have agreed, but hearing HIM agree too was like a knife shoved into her heart. “As we are now strangers, I claim the debt owed to me. For you wanted to go on a quest, and I gave you the means for it.” He let his fingers caress the sword’s pommel. “That you failed is on you, not me, for I gave you the best equipment money could buy.”

“It was but a gift, you said,” she exclaimed with outrage, her anger brought back by the unfairness of his demand. 

“It may have been a gift,” retorted Jaime nonplussed, “but it was an expensive one. So expensive actually, that Casterly's coffers run dry because of it.” Seeing her horrified face, he couldn't help but laugh. “It is but a jest, my Lady. Your gift didn't leave me poor and struggling.” He became serious again. “Nonetheless, it was a priceless gift and I will use it if needed to get your cooperation. You either pay me back _for the armor can only benefit you_ or you give me the boon of my choice.” 

She blanched and asked for the price she would have to pay back. At the sum uttered, she felt her legs give and fell gracelessly on the nearest chair. “You are surely japing again, Ser Jaime. I could not owe you such a considerable sum, couldn't I?” she whispered in dread. She couldn't even comprehend the number in her head.

Her anger was drowned by a great amount of fear. She had been so naive, accepting his gifts without thinking of payment, of reciprocity. She had counted on the inherent cooperation between nobles families. This rule was as old as the noble families themselves. Help should be given, in any way possible, between peers in times of need. Still, she had to recognize that Jaime Lannister had given her more than basic help. He had gone above and beyond his duty. 

“Well,” he scratched at his beard and squeezed his eyes in thought, “I gave you a customized armor of high quality, a rare valyrian sword, a warhorse of the finest breed, some provisions and a little money for your journey.” He smiled, and it felt like a death sentence. “I estimate that I gave you a generous price, as a former great friend of mine. I didn't even add the interests coming with the wear and damages coming with their use!” He blinked at her with wide eyes, “Am I wrong in my calculations, Lady Brienne? How much do you think you should pay for all those things I gave you? You do not even have to pay me back all at once. I would accept little payments over time, with a little interest added of course, until you pay the entire sum back. From my personal calculations, the best way to go about it would be to…” 

She didn't hear the rest as it was drowned by the screams in her head, _I can never pay back!_ echoing in her head with more and more force each time. She was sitting there senseless, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly, her glassy eyes blinking sometimes in shock. She finally got out of her stupor when she heard her name called several times.

“Is there a problem Lady Brienne?” Jaime was all solicitude and she would have punched his face if she had the strength for it. Alas, she felt as weak as a babe at the moment. He seemed to sense her disarray, for he brought her a cup of wine, which she drank at once.

When she reached for the bottle _in great need for some drunken oblivion_ he took the bottle away, making her whine in distress. “No need for such drastic measures, my Lady. Wine is never a solution for life's problems,” he laughed at her and she gave him such a somber look that he put his hands in the air, mimicking surrender. “I know the situation seems bleak, but surely your father can give you the sum.” she glared at him again, for they both knew it was a blatant falsehood. “Or,” his face turned grave, “you could just give me the boon I asked for earlier. I would consider the debt paid and would never bring it again.” He shrugged with an impish smile. “I feel it is a great way to get rid of your obligation to me, and a very little thing to do in the end.” 

She gulped, and when he put some fur on her shoulders _his left hand trailing slowly on her back, she realized that she was trembling. He pressed another cup in her shaking hands, with an injunction to drink, and she did. The flavour of the herbal tea calmed her a lot. She drank it slowly, getting her bearing back. He stayed near her, silent, his hand still on the fur on her shoulder. His hand still slowly caressing her back made her tremble for a different reason. 

She knew she would regret asking, but she had to. “What does this boon entail exactly?” she asked with dread. If it was a little thing, he would just have to ask and she would gladly do it. His smile didn't reassure her at all. 

“Why, I am in great need of a betrothed for the next few moons! As you can see, not much of a hardship on your part,” he exclaimed with happiness. She looked at him blankly for a long moment while he smilingly expected her answer. “So, what say you, my Lady?” 

“You cannot be serious, Ser Jaime,” she rasped in disbelief. 

“On the contrary, Lady Brienne,” he answered seriously, his smile gone. He looked away and seemed bitter suddenly. “My father hounds me to take a wife, now that I'm not in the Kingsguard anymore. He throws all sorts of women at me, fathers included, for me to take my pick of the lot.” He stared at her intensely. “You know me better than even him, my Lady, you know that I could never accept that. A loveless companionship with an insipid person I did not choose,” he spat, disgusted. He looked at her calculatingly. “You would provide a companion for the period needed to calm spirits down, and I will not have to fear you coming into my room at night to make this mummery a reality.” He smiled harshly at her look of shock. “Do not be naive, Lady Brienne, you must know that certain ladies would stoop that low to get themselves a husband. Your honor may forbid you to use such schemes, but you cannot say you never heard of such practices.” He looked honestly disgusted about it.

Brienne blushed but didn’t deny. She put her hand on his and squeezed in sympathy. Even if she was still shocked by his impossible demands, she could not help but love him and wish only for his happiness. He turned his hand underneath hers and grabbed her hand with his, part of their fingers intertwining, a shockingly intimate gesture in Brienne's mind. It made her blush fiercely, and she hoped that he didn't see that. 

“I need some time to get my father to back off, and to find a solution. You could help me by pretending to be my betrothed for some time. Until my family is reassured that I will marry eventually. Then, when time permits, we will part amicably and nobody will be the wiser.” 

She shook her head from side to side, in denial. “You do not understand…” 

“I understand that I ask for something that will cause you pain, but I would not ask if it was not necessary,” Jaime said softly, his thumb caressing her knuckles. “I need your help, Brienne,” he said with determination.

“Ser Jaime, you do not understand, the things people will say about me... when you will reject me,” her eyes were filled with tears already just thinking about it. His grip on her hand became harsh, making her cry out in surprise and even a little pain.

“I will not let them say one bad word about you!” he said implacably. “Also, you will be the one rejecting me, my Lady, not the contrary.” He smiled at her with mirth. “You should be the one to reject me, shouldn't you?” 

“Who would believe that?” she said with bitterness. “And what about…” she continued more softly, but she didn’t dare finish.

“What about Cersei” he finished for her and she nodded, feeling uncomfortable at bringing her into the conversation. “What about her?” he said nonchalantly. When she looked at him in incomprehension, he explained, “My sister was extremely busy when I wasn’t there. As I was sitting in the mud, in a war partially of her making, she searched for other Lannisters to add to her conquests.” Brienne's eyes widened in horror, and she shook her head in denial. “I have irrefutable proof of her deeds, Brienne,” she startled at the use of her name but he didn’t let her think of it as he continued. “She also had lovers in the Red Keep, as many she could fuck to do her dark biddings.” He got up and towered over her, glaring at her in rage.

“What about her?” he bent over and his face invaded her vision, so close that she felt his breath on her lips, “Nothing! She has nothing to do with me anymore. Nothing to do with us, or with any of this. Do you understand Brienne?” Her name said so close to her lips made her whole body shudder with an emotion she didn’t dare name. She only knew it wasn’t fear, no matter how dangerous the lion of Lannister looked right at this moment. Her eyes fluttered involuntarily and his nostrils flared harshly, then he got himself back under control, the beast in him tightly leashed again.

“Would she keep away from you? I refuse… I do not want to be an instrument for the two of you to hide behind, even if our betrothal is fake. I ask for that much.” She had to push, she had to be sure. For she wanted to keep her dignity, and finding that they used her to mask their love would kill her as surely as a knife to the heart. It would be hard enough to play his betrothed when her treacherous heart wanted nothing more than to make this a reality.

“She has no rights on me anymore, except those of sister and mother of my children,” said Jaime with firmness. “Brienne,” she startled and blushed again at his casual use of her name. “You will have to get used to it, for as betrothed, the best way to convey our closeness in public is by the way of address. Give me my name, Brienne,” his voice was tormenting her, but his command was to be followed.

“Ser Jai…” his growl stopped her, “Jai… Jaime,” she stuttered while blushing again. He smiled at her warmly.

“Yes, Brienne. Again.” 

“J...Jaime,” it came faster, but the blush was still intense. She could not look at him.

“We will have to practice more, Brienne,” he said lightly, laughing at her with his eyes. She glared at him but it was probably not very effective with the blush still covering her face. 

“As for my sister, Brienne,” he drawled her name out making her growl, “I may love foolishly, and completely, but even I have my limits. And I demand as great a commitment from my lover as I intend to give. The second I had proof of her betrayal, she lost me.”

There was nothing to add, he _was_ a man of extremes. He would link himself to a forbidden woman for love, as he would give a valyrian sword to a friend. She had thought that such a generosity of spirit would be limitless. However, he did have his conditions, and the one at the end of such lavish gifts must be worthy. As she was pondering the situation, he sat back and cleared his throat to get her attention. 

“Now that you agreed,” he said and she cried in protest _for she certainly had agreed to nothing yet_ “Oh! My mistake! Sorry, my Lady. When will you bring the money, for I forgot the date you mentioned earlier?” She scrunched her face in anger and he looked at her impassively, one eyebrow raised in wait. Her face contorted a few times, but her mouth stayed tightly shut. He waited a few seconds more, just to annoy her.

“As I was saying before being rudely interrupted,” he smiled triumphantly, “now that you agreed, being my betrothed can help me gain the time I need to thwart my family plans concerning my life. After, we will part again, each headed to a better future.” 

She rubbed her face harshly with her hands, still hoping to be at the end of a particularly whimsical dream. “That was what you needed from me, a mummer’s play?” she asked, a little sceptical. It was a lot to ask from her, but surely a trifle for any other woman.

“That is what I need from you, indeed,” he replied with utmost seriousness. “But it will have to be the best mummer’s play ever played, Brienne.”

She squinted her eyes at him, then frowned even further.

“Why ask the money for the gifts then? Why not ask for my help from the beginning? Why jape at me so?!” She was a little put out by the whole stratagem. She even felt a little angry at his underhanded ways. She didn’t have time to think too much on it, as the golden-haired man hadn’t finished yet.

“I seriously intend to claim your debt should you refuse! It is no jape, my Lady. I would need the money to run as far as Yi-Ti to escape this despicable situation. And you being indebted to me seemed like a great punishment for you refusing to help me when I finally needed it,” he was smiling as he said that, but his eyes were deadly serious. She shivered again, as she comprehended that he would have done it if pushed far enough.

She sighed then nodded.

“I accept to help you deflect your family as your false betrothed for as long as needed.” It was said solemnly, an oath from one knight to another. Jaime nodded back seriously and thrust his hand forward to shake on it. She took his hand in hers, and they shook once, twice. He was about to say something cheeky, for he beamed and opened his mouth, when she compressed his hand hard in a punishing grip. She was happy to see him wince.

“And I wish for a written contract,” she thrust her chin up in disdain as he looked at her in surprise. “I will not let you drag me into such a predicament ever again, Jaime Lannister,” she said with force.

His mirthful laughter rang in the air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here it is! Shoot!


	3. In his convoluted mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaime had been quite cruel but he may have had reasons very opposed to cruelty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, Braime's fans. This fic is still going strong. 
> 
> First of all, thanks to JailynnW, who helps me build a strong story and is always encouraging me to do better and write more Jaime and Brienne stories (is there any other kind? I quite forgot). You are awesome and I hope 'Howl at the moon' never finishes. (just a suggestion as your beta *wink, wink*)
> 
> A lot of thanks to all who kudo'ed, commented or took the time to read the story. I cannot repeat enough how much it means to me. Every comment that I get to read and answer to is a sincere pleasure. Kudos to all of you.

  
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CHAPTER 3

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After they hammered a contract which satisfied both parties, they both signed it and Jaime sent his squire to fetch his best friend and a bottle of the finest wine they had. The time waiting for the red-headed man to arrive was spent arguing about the necessity of people knowing of their engagement so soon. Brienne, of course, wanted to wait. Jaime wanted it to be known immediately and refused to budge on this point.

“We will have to convince everyone in the Red Keep, and my whole family, that we are sincere in our affection. Because of who we are, people would accept our union only if it is based on the purest love. You may be a maiden of noble blood but my father found better prospects. Hence the need to show that we cannot live without the other. We better begin now, where I can control the people and events around us. We need all the practice we can get.” It made perfect sense, even if Brienne didn't like it. She had to know he was right. She still jumped when he called her by her name. She still couldn't bring herself to call him 'Jaime' without blushing furiously.

It was endearing to him and he wouldn’t mind letting her blush as much as she needed to, but the skittishness had to disappear. It would be odd to see her react that way at every touch. Jaime had a good idea as to how to stop Brienne’s visceral reaction. 

“Even then,” he continued for he had to make her understand, “there are spies in the camp and not all of them come from my enemies.” He had to get close to whisper in her ear, and she tried to put some distance between them. He put his hand on her hip to keep her near, so anybody who opened the tent would believe they interrupted a tender moment. He talked to distract her from their closeness. “Brienne, some spies are my sister’s and others my father’s. Unfortunately, I cannot move against them, even if I knew them all. I probably not have full knowledge of how many there are in the camp.” She nodded, biting her bottom lip, and he wanted to lick the wet appendage but he knew better. “We have to be really careful from now on, for we can trust nobody except ourselves if we want this to work.” She bit her lip harder, worrying at the skin and he damned her for being so provocative without even knowing. His hand gripped her hip harder in frustration.

“What about Addam? Peck?... Pod? Aren’t they trustworthy? I know Pod would never betray me.” She looked apprehensive, probably only now getting that it would be a fairly complicated endeavor.

“Nobody but us, Brienne,” he insisted digging his fingers in the material covering her hip, his eyes looking intensely into hers. He wanted her to always be attuned to him and to the game played between them. He also wanted to forge a situation where he was the one she could trust the most, the only one she could relax with. He wanted her to confide in him and to seek only him. It was incredibly egoistic but he wanted his wench for himself.

If he had to lie about Addam’s trustworthiness _ for he was trustworthy, Jaime knew that Addam was loyal to him above all_ he would do it. If he had to ‘embellish’ the number of spies in the camp to heighten Brienne’s paranoia, he will do it too. Moreover, while he did overestimate the number of spies, there were still spies in the camp.

The stakes were too high, and the game too important for Jaime to not act with the utmost caution. He couldn’t leave his union with Brienne to chance. He would ensnare Brienne in a sweet trap of his making, a trap she would never want to escape from. 

And there was something _delicious_ in playing helpless damsel to Brienne’s honorable knight. He was sure that the wench would agree if she knew, maybe even appreciate the strategy behind his plan. She would blush so sweetly, his dear maiden.

And she was his knight, as proven by the beautiful sword at her hip. This had been another point on which they had argued. She still had refused to take back Oathkeeper. He had just smirked at her. She could not give it back. His father knew that the sword was in her hands. Giving it back would make no sense, especially as they were going to King’s Landing as betrothed. She had sighed but had nothing to say against his arguments. She had taken Oathkeeper back to his immense pleasure. He had seen her poorly hidden joy at having the sword back in her hands. 

When they heard a commotion by the tent's entrance, Jaime put his arm around her waist, bringing her closer, their bodies in contact now. She startled with a gasp and made to move away but he pressed her even closer to him. “It begins now, Brienne, do not forget,” he said, staring at her seriously until she stopped squirming. She permitted herself one glare in his direction, as Ser Marbrand entered the tent. To his credit, his only reaction at their indecent closeness was his raised eyebrows; which was less obvious than the furious wash of red coloring her face and ears. Jaime, unfortunately, had to release her to advance towards his friend.

“Addam, come in! Come meet my intended, the Lady Brienne of Tarth!” Jaime said gleefully. Addam blinked then engulfed the one-handed man in a crushing hug. Their laughter filled the air, as they spent the next moments slapping each other on the back and ribbing each other good naturally.

Brienne looked ill-at-ease but seemed soon engrossed by his interaction with his best friend. It felt good to be the object of such a passionate study. He even could understand it. It was an aspect of him she didn't know, as he was rarely so informal. Only with a few people did he let himself have relaxed exchanges, and this group included the two persons near him at this moment. 

Addam then came to her and took her hands in his to kiss their knuckles. “My Lady, I congratulate you on getting yourself such a fierce lion. Even if I assure you that I would be so much better, should you reconsider your decision.” He laughed at her shocked face, at least until Jaime booted him in the rear in mock annoyance. 

“You rascal!” exclaimed the blond man in feinted outrage, “What kind of friend are you?!” 

“A good one, for you seem fond of her and probably want her to have only the best of things.” Addam nodded decisively while using his hand to wave at his body. Then, both men laughed and Brienne even smiled herself, apparently won over by their silly antics. Jaime beamed at her and signaled for Peck to come closer, his squire having waited near the entrance with a tray containing a bottle of wine and cups. 

Peck, after congratulating them on their betrothal, poured them all a cup of wine. “Let's drink and make merry,” Jaime declared loudly as they all raised their cups in a toast, “for she finally accepted my suit, making me the happiest man on earth.” He looked into her eyes with adoration and she smiled shyly with lowered eyes.

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Time was spent in a pleasant way until dinner when they had to join and dine with the rest of the commanding officers. He had the immense pleasure of having Brienne seated at his right, the place given by right to any Lady, or wife, should she be present in the camp. Everybody understood the meaning of the placement but nobody dared say anything. The story of No-teeth Connington had made the rounds the moment Brienne had put her feet in his camp, so they all knew that he felt bound to protect her honor. Now, they all knew why.

From his place at the head of the table, Addam on one side and Brienne at the other, he could see the stares of his soldiers, their nods of understanding, the whispered debates over the possibility of their relationship. He kept an eagle eye on them all, to impress that he would tolerate no disrespect of any kind.

He shouldn’t have worried, for when a Peck put a generous cut of meat in front of him, Brienne automatically stabbed it with her fork so he could cut it. Peck startled, as he generally helped, but Jaime dismissed him with a quick nod of his head. Brienne was discreet, but every eye was on the commander. He would have been incensed had it been somebody else. But Brienne was different. He nodded at her in gratitude, then cut a few pieces. As he ate one, he saw that some of his soldiers were looking at Brienne with something like approval in their eyes. Addam himself was nodding to himself with a smile. All the debates had stopped. He enjoyed the taste of his meat with relish. 

After the meal, Jaime brought Brienne to her new tent, a tent offered by one of his officers for the Lady’s comfort, and conveniently one of the closest to his living quarters. All was done with the utmost decorum, and he left her at the entrance of the tent with a kiss on her hand. The kiss may have been slightly improper, for it made her blush as Jaime took his time and let his lips caress her skin quite longer than what was the norm. 

He stopped only after she stuttered his name, her face as red as his House’s banner. She pretty much run into her tent and he entered his, took out his boots and jerkin, and fell down on his cot. As his eyes fixed the red material of his tent’s roof, a smile began to form on his face. Wider and wider, until the exaltation took over all his face. 

He thanked the Gods in his head for bringing Brienne back to him, when he had lost all faith in womankind. After Cersei’s betrayal, he was sure that there was not an honest woman left in the world. At that point, he had thought Brienne lost too. Then she was given back to him, as a testament of the Seven’s kindness.

His smile dimmed a little, as he thought of the deception he had to play on her. That was an uncharitable way of rewarding the probably last kind woman left in the world. But he knew he had no choice. She would never believe a sincere offer of courtship from him. She was, in his mind, more attached to appearance than he ever was. And the beauty given to him at birth stood in their way more than her ugliness.

Brienne, for all her good qualities, was quite prejudiced. He snorted, he was maybe too harsh but he was annoyed at her. Quite angry that ‘beauty’ was one of the reasons they couldn’t be together, after all this time. She was the one obsessing about appearances. Hers, his, hers and his together. Jaime, for quite a while already, was fond of her as she was. Her inner beauty was far outshining her outward shell, making defects of the flesh softer with time and affection, scars only enhancing instead of diminishing her in his eyes. All of her imperfections made her so unique, so ‘Brienne’, that he wouldn’t want her any other way.

But he also knew that Brienne didn’t feel the same. He was practically sure that she loved him too. And their time together, playing intended, will be a perfect way to confirm his suspicions. But he knew she compared their bodies and found herself lacking, instead of comparing their souls, and realize how much she shined over them all. She probably felt the acute pain of being ugly _more_ when standing near him. For nobody let her forget, not for a moment. He could try to convince her, scream until he was blue in the face, she still would never believe.

Due to his lack of understanding of his own feelings and his often preached love for Cersei, Brienne would probably never even try to voice her feelings for him, or even believing that he could ever love somebody else, her least of all.

After all, hadn’t he been proud for a long time of having loved only one woman in his life entire. He had been proud of his love for his twin, had been proud to announce it when he could. So when he had told Brienne that he was done, he had seen her disbelief. Even after explaining to his wench why he was done with Cersei_and he was done with Cersei_ she still had doubted him. It had been in her frown, in the questions she had and hadn’t asked, in the slight disbelieving stares she had given him. 

Hence the deception. He had to use his Lannister cunning, no matter how much he despised it. For lying to Brienne was not something he liked to do. But no matter how honest he wanted to be with her, the way she generally was with him, she would think it is a jest made at her expenses. The deception was abhorrent, but the results -if it worked- would be worth it. 

He grimaced. It had been deceitful to use her depression against her, but he had learned manipulation at the master’s knee. Tywin had turned manipulation and deception into an art form. As his son and heir, he had despised the deceit but it didn’t mean that he didn’t learn them. Or that he couldn’t use this method when needed. He may loathe manipulating her, but he didn’t loathe it _enough_ to abstain from using this method if it could get him his heart’s biggest desire.

For his ultimate goal in this mummery was to secure himself a REAL wife. The courtship which Brienne would assume was a play, would be no deception at all. He was deadly serious in this campaign for her heart. He knew what he wanted, and finally had a way of obtaining it.

She was so close. He was so close to getting her. As astonishing as it may seem, the only thing he wanted, after all his years, after all the battles, the prestige, the high standing, after all he accomplished good and bad, after being Tywin’s Lannister first son and heir, being hailed the golden lion of the Rock, the youngest knight ever, the infamous Kingslayer, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, a man without honor, an Oathbreaker… he only wanted to love and be loved in return. It was what he wanted since he was young, what he thought he had with Cersei, what he was sure to get with Brienne.

He only wanted Brienne of Tarth, as his companion, his wife, the mother of his future children. He wanted her to be near him, always. He wanted companionship, he was sick of war, he didn’t want to destroy anymore. He sought peace, to build something for once, to create a loving family, a good legacy...Tywin wasn’t so far off the mark after all, even if he wouldn’t want to use his father’s ways. With Brienne, they would find a better path, a better way to do things, his wench would tolerate no less.

Brienne was like him on this aspect. They were both romantic fools. It was heartening to know another person who still believed in chivalry. Too many people had given up on that notion. Knights first. He knew they could have a grand life together. He just had to convince her first. Now that she was tied to him, even with his heavy-handed ways of keeping her here, he could finally lure her into his arms. He could show her that life with him could be sweet. Now that she has accepted his deal, it could be done.

He thought of the contract again and smiled. His wench was still very naive. Her depressed state of mind had dulled her rationality. Her anger at being trapped under an unpayable debt had made her cautious, that’s true, and she had argued over each of the contract’s clauses. She had also read the contract twice to check for traps she could have missed. He wasn’t hurt by her assumption, after all, he did just use a horrible tactic to tie her to him. He could only applaud her for her diligence, but she was still a naive maiden. 

She had checked for convoluted rules written to make her fall, but she didn’t check for the omissions. For example, there was nothing in the contract about physical contact. She didn’t think of it, but it had been on his mind, and he certainly didn’t remind her. He intended to use the lack of rule as much as he could. He would never force her to do anything she didn’t want of course. He wouldn’t force, but he could ...entice. 

She wasn’t used to being touched, even less with affection. How would she react to little touches? To his fingertips tracing paths on her skin? To a kiss pressed on her temple? To his lips dragging on her skin? It was so innocent but he shivered in anticipation. He recognized that he was scarcely better on this subject. Cersei and he had stopped using this kind of delicate touches long ago, always putting sexual intent in every move. He still wanted to experiment this slow burn with Brienne, those delicate brushes against each other which whetted the appetite and ensnared the mind. And being affectionate with each other would be a perfect way to convince the world, and his wench, of their love.

Then would come the time for passion, for lust, for a time when he will do more than graze her skin. He moaned and bit his bottom lip.

His beloved was skittish enough, and she knew him for years. He smiled dreamily, his eyes half-closed. The best way to stop that, as he knew, was constant practice. He let out a quiet laugh, as he gathered the furs on top of his body. He didn’t mind practicing with her. 

Jaime was pretty satisfied. The die was finally cast. He slept beautifully that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what say you? A lot of you already guessed it but Jaime wanted an official statement.
> 
> Is Jaime justified in being a dick? lol I think that everything is fair game if he gets Brienne in the end lol


	4. Voices rise from the silence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time passes and their relationship blossoms slowly, despite the whole world seemingly intent on getting in Jaime's way. 
> 
> Some people get hurt and others get warned. And Jaime get some precious moments with his Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi to everyone who loves Brienne and Jaime! Here's another chapter of this fic. Hope you will like it
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine, not D&D's either which makes me feel a little better.
> 
> Thanks: Where would I be without JailynnW? Probably in the loony bin writing 'DDD' (Die D and D) on the walls. lol Thanks for helping me conserve my sanity. And for all the rest too.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who reviewed and kudo'ed, it means the world to me. Seriously, I smile twice as much after a comment and thrice after I answer. To all the others who read, thank you too. I hoped you liked it. And if you didn't, tell me so I can get better and write stronger stories. ^^

  
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CHAPTER 4

  
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Time in a war camp was full of tasks to perform to be functional. Added to the fact that the army moved every sennight, the days were busy and tiring. In tranquil days, the camp residents woke up early and had to train for two hours, scouting and hunting, then dedicate time for chores, eat a midday meal, then rest for one hour. The afternoon was dedicated to physical exercise and horse training followed by more weapon training, then weapon and armor maintenance, chores followed by washing up, dinner and rest - in whichever form the soldiers preferred. 

Days of moving camp for another were even more intense. For they had to dismantle all the tents, put everything on carts, prepare for march, then walk for miles to get to the new destination. The fact that they already knew their destination helped _some soldiers scouted ahead of time to find the perfect grounds_but it still was intense for the camp had to be done by nightfall. On arrival to the new site, all would help to create a motte, wooden stakes, watchtowers and gates. Then came the internal camp with its sections of foot soldiers' tents, officers' tents, the Commander’s private tent and the Command tent, the servants and camp followers’ tents. They also had to dig wells and prepare trenches to bury human and animals’ waste. Those days were exhausting and after the construction, most just ate dinner and fell asleep, except the unlucky soldiers drafted as guards. 

The daily chores were quite diverse like patrol, hunt for the day’s meals, maintaining the camp, guard duties, scouting for spies or for a new camp, military meetings for the commanders, physical exercises, taking care of horses and weapons, remedial training for the foot soldiers who needed even more training than the knights. 

Jaime, as the Commander, had even more to do. He had to do his own training-generally early for he couldn’t show his men that he wasn’t as strong as before. Add all the meetings with his officers, the treatment of letters addressed to him, the review of his soldiers, the judgment of disputes between soldiers, the encouragement he needed to give to bolster his forces… It made for soul-exhausting days. 

But he felt lighter about his workload since she came. He woke up eagerly, filled with an energy he thought gone for years. The moon turn passed in her company only reinforced the fact that he needed her in his life. He spent as much time as he could with her. She was with him in all except the most delicate tasks, and having her riding near him when he toured the camp filled him with pride. 

Yet, Jaime noticed that Brienne was prone to melancholy when idle. Her eyes would lose their spark and be fixed on a distant point. She, of course, refused to tell him what ailed her and it drove him to madness. The solution came from an unexpected source.

  


  


  


  


Pod had gotten a lot of free time since they came to the Lannister camp. Sometimes, the fear of being abandoned again would rise suddenly and he would hyperventilate. Would his Lady Knight leave him too? It made sleeping difficult some nights as he would try to stay awake in case she tried to go.

However, the anxiety was slowly winding down. His Lady Knight was still taking the time to train him every day, still teaching him the difficult art of the sword. He was still in charge of cleaning her armor and help her in and out of it every day. 

He smiled to himself. He had chosen true this time. 

His teacher was gruff sometimes and downright impatient if he was dissipated. Still, she was kind and never raised her hand on him in anger or because of a drunken haze. She didn’t mock him and was endlessly patient when it came to teaching her craft. That was when he liked her best. She was what a mother must be like he believed. That’s why he had to be vigilant.

Since they were in the lion’s camp, he saw some distressing things. The first night she had disappeared into the Commander’s tent and didn’t get out until the next morn. Only the fact that Lord Jaime had gotten out had reassured him a little. The night after their arrival, she had been seated near Lord Jaime. At some point, he had smiled at her and the little boy hadn’t liked the look on his face. Later on, he had seen the Commander kiss her hand and his Lady... Ser had run into the tent in alarm. It frightened him greatly. What was afoot? Was she afraid? 

He had come into her tent a few moments later and she already had been on her cot, furs covering her from shoulder to toe. Her back had been to him so he couldn’t see her face. Still his fear for her had been greater than his reluctance to wake her up. “Are you well, my Lady...Ser?” He waited with bated breath for her answer. 

Her body startled under the covers and he heard her sniff loudly before she answered. “I’m fine, Pod. Thank you for your concern. You can go to sleep now. Tomorrow will be a long day.” 

He hummed unconvinced. Her voice had been thin and trembling. Like his after a bout of crying. He had sounded like that a lot after Lord Tyrion left him behind. He stood for a few more moments, uncertain, until she told him to go to sleep again. He went to his cot and lied down facing her. He would watch her carefully now and be prepared to run away with her at her signal. And he would watch the Commander even more. Nobody will hurt his Lady knight!

The following day only confirmed in Podrick’s mind that something terrible was happening. He saw his Lady always near the other man. Riding with him, in the training grounds while Lord Jaime was watching the soldiers exercise. Pod was upset that the Commander also came to watch his own private training with his Lady. He fumed inside, for it was _his_ time with her and she was distracted by his snarky words and teasing manner. 

He was even more alarmed because a rumor was spreading like fire. The Commander and Lady Brienne were betrothed. He was still musing about whether or not tell his Lady Knight about it when he was summoned to the Lord Commander’s tent.

  


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The boyish squire and the man were carefully assessing each other from their respective sides of the table. In any other time, Pod would have been intimidated by the Lord of Casterly Rock. And he still was, in his heart of hearts. Even missing a hand, he looked fierce and dangerous. Him asking to talk to a little squire was surprising, except if he wanted to talk about his Lady Knight. Pod promised himself to not betray his Lady’s secrets even under the threat of death. 

He had heard stories about Lord Jaime by Lord Tyrion. Stories of his valour and his courage. His fearlessness and military prowess. He also had heard other stories about the man, darker stories that came out only when the little Lord had been drunk. Of immoral liaisons, of blind devotion, even stories about his plain stupidity. All in all, he wasn’t keen on this man being close to his honorable Lady. 

Jaime smiled gently and Pod braced himself, already suspicious. “Little Podrick Payne, is that right?” Pod nodded tensely. “Any relation to Ilyn Payne, the King’s Justice?”

Pod nodded, he could answer that. “He..h-he is a distant cousin, Mi-y Lord.” Pod blushed with anger and frustration. He hated this stutter which made him look like a fool. He needed to sound imposing. “I’m f-fro...from a lesser branch of House Pa--P-Payne.” Pod looked down. He felt ashamed.

Jaime nodded to himself. “Do not feel ashamed because of your stumbletongue, young Payne. Can I tell you something in the strictest confidence?” Jaime leaned forwards and Pod looked at him in surprise, then nodded. “I had a hard time reading when I was a little child and look at me now.” Jaime waved at his tent with his golden hand. “With hard work and confidence, you could go far too, my Lad. You can overcome your weaknesses. And with an instructor like Lady Brienne, I am sure you will become a fierce knight.” 

Pod straightened his back and beamed at the man in front of him. He was so happy to hear that. He relaxed and smiled with all his teeth, “My Lady...Ser is the most ho-honorable knight in the S-Se-Seven K-Kingdoms, Ser Jaime!” He was glad that somebody else recognized his Lady as a knight.

Jaime nodded solemnly, “That she is, my Lad.” Jaime tilted his head, looking puzzled “How did you come to enter Lady Brienne’s service? Aren’t you a vassal of my family?” 

Pod trembled. Was he to be punished for entering another family’s service?

Jaime’s eyes widened, “I did not mean to frighten you, young Pod. I only know that your last master was my little brother. Isn’t that right?”

Pod looked down for a moment. Thinking of Lord Tyrion made him sad. “I was, t-t-th-three times I served the Lannister family pro-proudly and three times I was left be-b-behind. My last ma-master was indeed Lord Tyrion. I decided to f-fa--find him and somebody t-to-told me about Lady Brienne searching for…” he cut himself abruptly, not wanting to say Lady Sansa’s name.

Jaime nodded and said softly, “I know about Lord Tyrion’s wife, I sent Lady Brienne on her quest.”

Pod’s eyes widened and his mouth opened wide. Jaime continued, “I am not angry at you little Pod. I am happy that Lady Brienne has someone like you guarding her back. My brother told me that you served him faithfully. He also said that you saved him in the Battle of the Blackwater. Now you are protecting my intended.”

Pod paled, “My lady... Ser is really b-betrothed to yu-you?” 

Jaime smiled and nodded, “Yes, as of yesterday, we are happily betrothed. You are actually protecting a member of the Lannister family” 

Pod was flustered. His Lady Knight hadn’t said anything. She didn’t tell him. Shouldn’t she be the one to tell him the news? Did she not trust him? She may even not care about him. And she had cried… Pod felt so hurt that tears sprung in his eyes and he had to blink rapidly to stop them from falling. He wrung his hands in distress.

Thankfully, Lord Jaime was looking away so Pod could compose himself even if his dismay was still considerable. “Now that we have established that you are in fact still a Lannister vassal,” Jaime said nonchalantly while looking at him again, “I need your help, Podrick of House Payne.”

Pod looked at him questioningly, “Yes, my Lord? Wh-What wo--ould you have me do?” The Commander was right. As his Lady’s intended, serving her made him a vassal of both but his loyalty went to Lady Brienne first.

“I want you to report on Lady Brienne’s doings and her ...” 

Pod had jumped at the word ‘doings’ and had taken a step back from the table, his fists clenched at his side. “I will not betray my Lady’s secrets! I am her squire and she is my Lady Knight! I will not betray her.” In his rage, he didn’t even notice the lack of stutters. 

The commander had opened his eyes wide at his outburst. Both his arms flew to his sides, his hands up as if to calm a spooked animal. “I did not ask you to betray your Lady, young Pod. I am asking you to relate some events to me.”

Pod shook his head from side to side. “You are asking me to spy on her and I will not do it!” Pod was resolute.

The older man didn’t say anything for a long time then he nodded with a smile. He approached and went down on his knees in front of him then put his left hand on his shoulder. He began to whisper, “I am very proud of you, Podrick Payne!” Pod, who had braced himself for punishment, was astonished. Lord Jaime continued, “I am happy that you squired for both of my most precious people. I know now that they are a good protector and that your lips are sealed.” Jaime’s eyes softened, “My little brother had to go quickly so he couldn’t take you with him. But he did task me with telling you that you are the best squire he ever had and to take care of you. I tried to find you but you disappeared soon after him.” 

Pod did cry at that. Lord Tyrion had cared for him if he said those words before he left. He nodded frantically, “T-t-Thank you for t-te-telling me, my Lord.” Lord Jaime nodded and patted his shoulder. 

The Lord then whispered, “I need you to tell me when your Lady is unwell.” He shook Pod when he tried to protest, “_My intended_ is a very reserved woman. And I am a man with a lot of responsibilities. I do not want her to suffer from anything that I could prevent. Young Pod, do not tell me her words, keep them close to your heart as the precious gems they are. But I do ask that you tell me if she seems sad or depressed so I can ‘act’. Can you do this, little Podrick?” At the end, the Commander was fierce and his fingers dug into his bony shoulder so hard that Pod winced. The pressure immediately eased up. The one-handed man looked at him expectantly.

“Do...Do you love my Lady Brienne, Lord Jaime?” It was asked with all the seriousness Pod could muster. He had to know. It was his role as Lady Brienne’s squire to assess any threat to her.

Lord Jaime thankfully seemed to understand and answered with the utmost solemnity, “Yes, Podrick of House Payne, I do love the Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

Podrick looked into his eyes for a long moment. He finally nodded, satisfied. “I-I--I will inf-fu-inform you, my Lord. If need be.”

Jaime sighed in relief, “That’s all I ask, young lad. You have my heartfelt thanks, and my House owes you a tremendous debt, young Podrick. When you need me, I shall be there.”

  


\----------------------------------------

  


“You are distracted today, Pod. You will never learn your basic forms that way.” Brienne was looking at him with her hands on her hips, clearly annoyed. Podrick hung his head. He knew that he had made a poor showing today but his conversation with Lord Jaime and the fact that his Lady Knight had not told him of her wedding had perturbed him.

“My Lady...Ser, I-I--I…” he stopped and couldn’t talk further. He began to breathe quickly when Brienne looked at him and nodded. She grabbed his arm and took him to her tent. There she looked at him calmly and said softly, “Pod, can you calm down and tell me what ails you?” She breathed slow and deep and he knew that he was to do the same. They did it every time he began to feel nervous and he admitted that it helped a lot. 

After looking everywhere for a long moment, he finally looked at her, “I-i-I---I wanted to con-co-congratulate you on your b-betrothal, my Lady...Ser.” Podrick looked down then up. Brienne was pale and blinking quickly, then she sighed.

“Oh! That. Thank you Pod.” When his face fell, she sat on the ground with her back to the cot and invited him to do the same. He sat gingerly. “You probably wonder why I didn’t tell you.” He buried his face between his knees and nodded. Another sigh passed her lips.

“I am sorry for not telling you sooner, Pod.” He turned his head to look at her and his hurt must have been obvious because she flinched. “I didn’t mean to keep this from you or for you to find out about it by other means.” She looked away, and he knew that she was thinking and she needed time. She looked down and clasped her hands together tightly, “I barely had the time to comprehend the news myself, Pod. The betrothal while… welcomed was still a surprise to me. It is still a surprise to me.” 

She looked at him again, “I hope you know that you would have been the first person I would have told if it had been possible.” Pod knew his Lady Knight. He knew her eyes and they were always honest and they were honest now too.

“Why do you seem unhappy then, my Lady...Ser?” Brienne flinched at the question and looked down again. 

“I am happy, Pod,” she blushed at that, “I had given up on finding a husband in this lifetime.” She sighed, “but I still do not feel right about gaining some happiness when my vows had been forsaken.” She sounded desolate, haunted.

Pod dared put his head against her shoulder but didn’t dare look up when he said, “You did all you could my Lady..Ser. I saw you. I’m proud of being your squire.”

Her voice was gruff when she answered, “Thank you Pod.” The fact that she didn’t push his head aside showed him how much she had appreciated his words.

  


  


  


  


Young Pod had thankfully given him some vague clues, still not at ease with talking about his Lady but it had been enough. His happiness at seeing her had obliterated a lot of his old vexations. He forgot that she wasn’t the same. Lady Brienne never put aside any of the oaths and weights she took. She was constantly reliving her perceived failures and taking the whole responsibility on all the things she could _and couldn’t_ control. Now, Sansa’s death was on her mind, compounding Renly and Catelyn’s deaths. He, unfortunately, wasn’t always free to distract her as he had too many things to do and very little time to rehash past failures...

He decided to give her some tasks of her own. 

He sent her on patrols and hunts. Mostly, he gave her the charge of training the foot soldiers. She had the perfect temperament to teach. She was kind and patient, didn’t gloat about her own accomplishments and had a keen eye for mistakes. Soon, even the most recalcitrant _and those got a stern warning by Addam in private_ saw the benefits of learning from her. Ser Jorvan, the old knight whom she had replaced had been temperamental and lazy but he had been sent to King’s Landing on convenient courier duty. She was thriving and would tell him all about her charges’ accomplishments even if he knew already, as he often came to watch their progress. 

Her squire was not forgotten as she took the time to train him every day as well. Little Pod was pretty happy in the camp as he made friends with other squires, so he was mostly absent except for when he had to train or do his daily duties. 

Most importantly, Jaime took the time to train with her. It was a welcomed private time with her even if it was not spent pleasantly. She may be his betrothed but she didn’t hesitate to hurt him in training. Still, while she did win their matches, she didn’t humiliate him totally like Ser Ilyn Payne was wont to do. It was less relentless pummeling than using just a little more force than him to let him strive to be better, and let him build some strength to parry her.

Still, they were rarely apart when they had some free time. In the case of a war council or any military meeting, she had to go and he missed her incredibly. He knew she couldn’t be there, for she was a Stark loyalist and had no position of command in his army. ‘Soon’, he thought. For when she weds him, she will be there with him, always. He will make better decisions with her at his side. 

An irritating voice brought him back to the council. Randyll Tarly, the lord tasked with eliminating outlaws in the Riverlands, was talking about the reconstruction of Maidenpool again. Jaime’s eyes narrowed in anger.

Brienne had been respectful and gracious with all persons in his camp...except _him_. An inexplicable disgust had taken over her the second she saw him. A disgust which had been amply reflected in his captain’s face. He had to hound her to know the truth, for she had refused to explain the reason for such antipathy. It had taken him harassing her _nagging her in the most annoying ways he knew of_ for three whole days for her to fold. The tale of the knights’ bet and Tarly’s reaction had unraveled. The fact that knights had bet on her virtue, that they had courted her to take her maidenhood. That Tarly had put the blame on Brienne for those despicable knights’ attitude made his blood boil. 

Jaime had been furious. Was furious still. He, unfortunately, couldn’t throw the Lord back to his hill for such an attitude. But he could watch him. And he did. Addam too, after an incandescent Jaime recounted the story. However, Tarly seemed to understand that he was on sensible ground and kept his distasteful opinions for himself.

While Brienne had no commanding position, she was clearly the ‘Commander’s Lady’. The soldiers took notice of her presence. Always at his right hand. She took that position instinctively, surely to guard his weak side. It showed that she was important. If that wasn't enough, the fact that they were mostly together was quickly and correctly interpreted by the camp’s inhabitants. She was ‘his’ and got treated as such, with deference and respect. 

She still had gotten hilariously flustered when she had been asked if she had any culinary preferences by the cook. Or what ‘he’ had wanted to eat on that same night. When she had come to him with this problem, feeling horrible at what she had felt as the usurpation of his authority, he had laughed and told her that he left this matter to her ‘as the subject of the household was one of the wife’s duties’. Her scrunched face had made him laugh harder… until supper came.

The fare at the officers' table had been far simpler and closer to what the rest of the army ate. As he had turned to her with a raised eyebrow, she had raised her own in defiance and told him that the simple soldiers’ meal should be good for all of them. "My Ser Husband would certainly agree with me," she had added with an innocent smile. He had only taken her hand and kissed it fiercely. "My honorable heart," he had murmured with a smile, making her blush slightly. 

This episode, while repeated only one day per sennight afterwards, won her the approbation and love of all the foot soldiers. The respect in their eyes was more than an obligation after that.  
The officers and knights had been put out, of course (except Addam who nearly burst his gut laughing) but Jaime had been able to spin a tale about him wanting to please her. 

He still had told the cook to come to him afterwards for any meal change.

  


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Brienne was a pleasure to work with. She had integrated the camp’s life without any problem. She was not spoiled and demanded neither extra comfort nor extra attention. As a soldier, she was diligent and followed orders to the letter, never complaining. As a peer, she was helpful and a good partner in the training yard. She practiced daily, won and lost spars both with good grace. As a superior soldier and a member of the nobility, she was humble and kind to those under her. She loved to instruct recruits on the finest points of sword fighting. Her personal servant Pia actually reported that the Lady barely used her services, preferring to do things by herself. Jaime couldn’t help but compare the two women of his life. Brienne was so full of kindness that Cersei seemed horrible in comparison. 

She had but one caprice if one could call it that way. She wanted, no, _needed_ a bath every day before dinner. She was willing to do any task, be part of any guard rotation but when the sun began to go down, she would begin to scratch and wiggle until she cleaned herself.

He couldn’t blame her. He had been fastidious about his hygiene before. It was both a personal preference and his father’s influence. His father insisted that as a Lannister and especially as a Lannister Commander, he needed to show a man above all the others. And it began with appearance. After being a prisoner for months and sitting in his own fifth, he had become even more fastidious about the state of his body. Hence, the tub in his tent.

So he had no problem with this quirk of hers, none at all, except that it was distracting in a way he couldn’t anticipate. Every day, his tub was transported to her tent for her bath, then taken back to his afterwards so he could bathe. The moment he saw the chain of squires bringing buckets of water coming and going from her tent, his mind would wander to the tent near his and the woman inside. He was distracted, could barely listen to his subordinates' reports as memories of their shared bath in Harrenhal assaulted his mind. He had believed himself secretive in his wool-gathering tendencies until Addam had asked, with a wide smirk, if the reports should be given earlier in the day to give him time to decide on a plan of action. Jaime had only nodded, mortified.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


After only a fortnight, he had had the confirmation of Brienne’s love for him. He had always suspected, since Harrenhal, that her feelings for him had changed. It had been hinted in the way she looked at him sometimes, in their easy way of interacting together, in the blushes coloring her face sometimes… in the way she said ‘Ser Jaime’.

He had kept mum on the subject. Not because he was a lackwit but because he knew that acknowledging her tender regard for him _without returning her feelings_ would break the fragile link between them. Knowing Brienne, she would have been mortified and refused to ever talk to him again. And he couldn’t tolerate the thought, even then. Also, while she sometimes seemed besotted with him, she didn’t mince her words when she thought he did something dishonorable; so the doubt had persisted in his mind about whether she loved him or not. 

After only a fortnight spent at her side, he had been sure. And he was glad, for her feelings for him seemed as strong as his. Thunder seemed to pass between them when they touched, and she had yielded to his affectionate gestures of devotion much quicker than what he had anticipated. 

And if the way she said ‘Ser Jaime’ had moved him before, it was nothing near the way she said ‘Jaime’, just ‘Jaime’. Such an abundance of barely hidden feelings in the way she said his name. Just as ‘Brienne’ expressed so much more than just the letters forming her name.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


He knew that Brienne loved him the day he got a letter about Myrcella being attacked. He was dealing with his officers’ reports when the scroll arrived. He dismissed everybody before opening it. His father’s print was on the letter. He had to read it more than once to confirm the news. His daughter Myrcella had been attacked in Dorne. 

A savage wound on the face. An ear lost. 

Jaime began to rock on his seat. Thankfully he was alone for he could feel his eyes blur. Another child of his, hurt in the battle for power. While Joffrey had been such a hateful child that he had hardly cared, he had felt something for little Myrcella and Tommen. They had been kind in a way he couldn’t attribute to either Cersei or him. Joffrey had seemed like the combination of the worst of them. The others seemed sprouted from another seed altogether. 

He may not have cared for them when they were young but with age came a new perspective. After he admitted to himself that he loved Brienne, a flood of dreams had emerged. One in particular often came back. Children. He saw himself with their children. Perfect darlings with blonde hair of different shades, of eyes shaded in every nuance of green and blue. Myrcella and Tommen were there too. Laughing and playing with their little siblings. He would look at them with a smile, his hand on Brienne’s round belly. 

He buried his face in his hand and leaned on the table. His poor daughter hadn’t deserved such a fate. And while he didn’t care for her appearance as long as she was alive, he knew that she would be made to feel ashamed by his father and his sister. It broke his heart. If only he and Brienne could take Myrcella with them...

He didn’t know how much time he stayed in this position, devastated, but he felt it. A slight touch. Delicate fingers in his hair, slowly carding through his locks. He froze, for he didn’t want to show Brienne this side of him again. So weak and vulnerable. He straightened and cleared his throat nervously. He was about to tell her to go away when she spoke, “Jaime.”

Her voice had a quality it never had before so he tilted his head up and looked at her. The look in her eyes made his breath catch. Her eyes were so sad yet he didn’t see any pity, just sadness for him. The letter was turned away from him so he knew that she had read its content. She didn’t look away from him, she just continued to look at him with empathy, with care, with love...yes, with love, and he hadn’t needed someone to love him as much as he had at that moment. “Jaime,” she repeated, just his name, without him having to prompt her. 

He choked out a desperate “Brienne” before crushing her in his arms. His head buried itself in her stomach as he let her share his grief and he whispered, “My Myrcella, my poor child." 

He couldn’t help but tighten his arms around Brienne but she didn’t complain. She just curled around him, as tight as she could, her tall body and arms covering him and hiding him away from the evil world. Her fingers caressing his hair softly and her lips kissing his locks with the softness of a feather. And he never wanted to leave… 

He felt her body rumble and could feel the texture of words but he didn’t get anything she said. But Brienne was there and it was all he needed to cleanse himself of the pain and get back up afterwards. 

“We will take care of her Jaime,” she promised, “we will not let her suffer alone. We will protect her and love her. And Tommen too.” 

He believed her. He loved her and he knew now that she loved him back.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


The tender moment had not been repeated but Jaime hadn’t expected it. The fact that Brienne had let go of her shyness enough to embrace him may have been his final proof of her love for him but it didn’t mean that she wasn’t the formidable Maid of Tarth again afterwards. He did, however, push her boundaries more now that he knew that they were both interested. He increased the gestures of affection and courtship and Brienne squirmed more than ever in embarassed pleasure.

They had developed a good system, a way to warn the other to back off, which was both discrete and could be interpreted as a sign of affection by people around them. When he went too far and overwhelmed her, generally with a physical gesture she wasn’t comfortable with, she circled his stump with light fingers and he had to back off. If she was about to retreat too abruptly or make a move unseemly for two people in their status, he would tap with his fingers on her shoulder -where the bear had clawed her. 

He was proud to think that he had to use his warning only two times, meaning she was used to his touches more and more and barely forgot herself. On the other hand, she circled his stump quite a lot. It was quite frustrating. Every touch of his lips anywhere on her skin _and it was modest places_ was quickly chastised, her fingers dancing frantically on his wrist. One time, she had left marks on his skin when he had kissed her just below the ear. She could not refuse him when he kissed her hand through, so he kissed her hand as much as he could, trying to convey tons of feelings in this simple gesture.

He would do more, push for more...if his soldiers were not a bunch of septas. Actually, septas had nothing on a bunch of gossiping bored soldiers. They were always with some ‘chaperone’, his soldiers always there in the background. And when his soldiers were mercifully away, little Pod was there, more attached to Brienne’s side than her own shadow. If it was useful for his plan, as Brienne always needed to act as his betrothed, he wouldn’t have minded a little private time with her. 

Still, her defenses eroded little by little, as time passed.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


"If we had known you before Lady Brienne," said Addam one night while merry on dornish wine, "Jaime would have had to fight us to get to Connington, for quite a lot of us would have hurt him for mocking you, not just Jaime!"

Jaime looked at Brienne and saw her skin turn white in shock and her hand grip one of her chair’s armrests with white knuckles. She didn’t dare look at him, her lips pressed tightly together. He hadn’t meant for her to know about his encounter with the cunt, for he guessed that the useless sack of bones had probably been as insulting to her face. Seeing her so perturbed now made him regret not hurting Connington _more_.

"He was vile, and extremely rude. You were lucky to avoid wedding him my Lady," added Addam still deep in his cups. Brienne paled even more as she closed her eyes, the picture of mortification. "Fortunately, this gallant knight here made him eat half of his teeth with his golden hand. Right, Jaime? You did punch him in the face?" Brienne suddenly looked at him in wonder, a question in her eyes.

“Yes, and such a pleasure it was.” He declared with a large smile, his eyes were serious through as he watched her. “He certainly will never say uncouth untruths about Ladies any time soon.”

Addam laughed uproariously at his jape, but what warmed his heart was the gratitude expressed in Brienne beaming smile.

The evening soon came to an end after that, Addam taking his leave and disappearing swiftly. Brienne got up and turned to leave too, without a word. He was contemplating what put such distance between them _as she looked so happy not a moment before_ when she turned back.

She looked at him, her eyes huge on her face, for a long pause. He was about to press her when she stepped forward, shockingly close. Then, she bent her head down and kissed him on the cheek delicately. He barely dared to breathe as his thoughts evaporated. His hand and golden replica pressed on her hips, bringing her closer by reflex, not wanting her to stop. It was stupid to be so overwhelmed by such a little thing. A simple kiss on the cheek. Yet, he felt like a green squire all over again. It was the first time _she_ had initiated any kind of intimacy. It was an enormous gesture. He fought with himself to not turn his head and touch her lips with his. He felt dizzy and shivered. His mouth felt as dry as the desert of Dorne.

"My knight deserves a token for defending my honor." Brienne barely looked at him while delivering her playful diatribe. Her face was red from the blood flooding in it, and her fingers were pressed on her lips. Her shock at having kissed him was obvious. He was burning with love for this shy woman, melting inside with pleasure at her instinctive gesture.

He took the same hand she pressed on her lips and kissed the fingers with devotion _the same fingers she pressed on her lips_ in an indirect kiss that made her tremble too. “My Lady, I thank you for the gift you gave me. It warms my heart greatly on this cold night.” His tone was playful but not mocking and he felt her relief, her body relaxing in his arms greatly.

Nothing further happened that night _as they parted soon after that_ yet their relationship subtly deepened again.

  


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Jaime was sitting on his horse, surveilling his bustling camp with a distracted mind. The light of the setting sun gave a reddish glow to the atmosphere, a Lannister red enveloping the people under his responsibility like a cloak. His concentration was all on the letter in his hand, freshly delivered by Addam. The seal of the Hand of the King was prominently exposed on white parchment. Jaime breathed slowly. His father had finally reacted. 

He opened the letter, even if he already knew the contents. 

‘Jaime,

I am disappointed that you didn’t think it important to mention your new attachment. Yet, reports indicated that you are quite enamored with each other. I will not tolerate such a public bond not made official any longer. 

You are hereby summoned to King’s Landing. You and your betrothed will be officially presented to King Tommen and your wedding organized.

I expect to see you in King’s Landing in a moon’s turn.

Tywin Lannister of Casterly Rock,  
Hand of the King.’

Jaime breathed deeply again. Well, his father certainly took his time. He had waited for such a letter for a fortnight already, thinking that his father would jump on such information with relish. The Gods knew he had been as obvious in his feelings as Brienne let him be. So he felt quite disappointed with his sire for his spies were quite below par. He had sincerely expected better.

Addam coughed near him and squirmed on his saddle, clearly curious. Jaime rolled his eyes and gave him the letter. Addam read it and became serious all at once. "I apologize for the breach in security, Jaime," the red-haired man was clearly mortified. "I will find…" 

Jaime stopped his friend’s recrimination with a raised hand. "No need for flagellation Addam. We both know that the camp is riddled with my family’s spies, and probably a spider or two." Addam nodded in agreement. "Actually," Jaime smiled and put his hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing the tense muscles. "There is really no need for that. I’m only sad it took so long!" Jaime laughed at Addam’s stunned expression. "Please Addam, would you tell Brienne that we are summoned to King’s Landing? I have another thing to do before I join her for supper." Addam nodded and left Jaime to his contemplation.

Another step of his plan done. He had finally been recalled to Court, and been ‘requested’ to bring Brienne with him. It was good, marvelous even. For Brienne had begun to grow suspicious when nothing happened, despite his daily reminders about spies. Of all the times when he had needed Tywin’s rapid-fire reactions, his sire had actually taken his sweet time to proceed. A whole moon actually. He had nearly sent his own soldiers with news but his father needed to have the feeling of being in control. So he had to be patient. If he wanted his father’s approbation, their relationship had to be above any scrutiny. 

He had been about to change his strategy. Excluding the frustration he felt at being near Brienne without being able to officially ‘be’ with her, he had nearly been at the end of his tether and had been about to do some drastic action. Like seduce her while she took a bath or tumble her in a sparring match and make their bond true in the most physical way. No better way to establish their relationship than to put a babe in Brienne’s belly. But Tywin had finally stooped to grace him with his instructions, thank the Seven.

Jaime sighed and was filled with bittersweetness. For he would regret living camp life for King’s Landing but he would be one step closer to making Brienne his wife. And it was worth plunging into the miasma of the Red Keep’s Court for a while. He pushed his horse forward and made his customary tour of the camp. Yes, it was time to go to King’s Landing!

  


  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that one was intense. Jaime and Pod battled for some attention. Jaime won but Pod got himself a decent piece. I feel that 'To serve with pride' would be good House Payne words, what do you think? 
> 
> I also got a shot at two of the hateful guys who made Brienne feel so small, Connington and Tarly. Tell me, how majestic Brienne would have been if these asshats hadn't been there... *MIND BLOWN*
> 
> Have a nice day/night! And remember, don't read and run! ^^ I still promise an enthusiastic answer!


	5. On their way to King's Landing - Part1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our favorite couple are on their way to King's Landing. Their journey bring them joys and sorrows, all means to link them tighter together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Braime fans, I feel like it's a long time since I updated this fic of mine. I am sorry for those who waited and I hope that you will love this chapter. 
> 
> Thanks to JailynnW, who is always the best of friends and the best of fans for helping me so much. She knows how much this chapter was not easy. Hope to always have you to guide me. 
> 
> Thanks to my friends in the Braime without borders, it is such a pleasure to see Braime love everywhere in the world, no matter the flag or creed ^^
> 
> Thanks to all those who love this story! Know that it continues in big part because of you ^^
> 
> Thanks to GRRM for his wonderful story. I thank him now because I do not know if he will still deserve it after we will know what will happen with Stoneheart. Please, Mr GRRM, just don't do us a D&D

  


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CHAP 5

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The road was calm and the journey easy. They had been able to go after a fortnight, giving Jaime the time to give instructions to his men on how to proceed until he came back. The trip had also taken some time to organize. As much as he had wanted to just take Brienne with him, he had to bring a force of fifty men with them. Addam and Pod were obviously of the lot. He would have loved to be only with Brienne and reenact their journey through the Riverlands. But he also remembered the way that trip had turned and preferred to bring soldiers with them for safety. With all the cutthroats and bandits scouring the countryside, it was better to travel in company.

There were still some advantages. It was still easier to move a small company than to move a whole army. They took with them the least possible, enough for little tents, cooking and defense. As they were traveling fast, their training was reduced to a few hours of sword training in the morning and in the evening. The rain wasn’t as strong as to be debilitating so they made a good pace. Hunting was most fruitful, the game more plentiful now that they headed south. They used the main roads, as their number would dissuade the most daring of criminals. Their camp had been near Stone Meal so they followed the Red Fork until it crossed the River Road, staying clear of Riverrun. Then the River Road to the Crossroads Inn. From there, it was a matter of traveling on the Kingsroad directly to King’s Landing. 

They were making good time, everyone motivated to get to the Capital as soon as possible. Sleeping on the road was something that they all had plenty of experience in, but nobody liked to have to do. The unrest sweeping over the Seven Kingdoms was only growing, as much as the folks' desperation. They were under constant threat of attack, despite their numbers. The armors, weapons, and horses could fetch a good sum. The members of the nobility in their party could fetch a hefty price if ransomed. As such, everybody had several guard shifts a day and the nights were generally restless. Everybody slept but kept in mind that they could have to wake up immediately to defend themselves.

It seemed like a grim environment for a journey but it was not all gloom and doom. The training spars were generally the highlight of the day, filled with people determined to win their bouts but also knowing how to lose with poise. It made for a great atmosphere for their party and many a time found Brienne encouraging and laughing with them at the training partners, Jaime laughing at her side. The nights after dinners were filled with songs and stories of men bragging of their military prowess. The men thankfully waited for Brienne to retire before talking of other conquests of another kind. Jaime appreciated that his knights tried to behave courtly in her presence. 

Unfortunately, the trip in the Riverlands brought back nightmares. Sleeping on the rough ground, even surrounded by allies made Jaime remember another trip. The nights were hard on him, sleep was elusive or riddled with nightmares. From the arack fending the air towards his hand to Brienne being eaten by a bear under Aerys screaming to burn them all, he had practically no peace. Feeling mortified at having those dreams, added to the responsibility he felt towards all the people under him, he refused to talk about his condition. Staying awake while riding became difficult and his concentration was wavering. If only he had one night of sleep...  
  


  
Brienne was worried about Jaime. Something was wrong but he refused to tell her and she didn’t know how to proceed. She and Addam were exchanging worried glances over Jaime’s head. 

When she understood that the other man frankly cared about the golden lion, they became fast friends. Addam understood that she was shy and did not to push too much, keeping his flirting at the minimum. She got his honest devotion for his friend and devoted herself to the task of stepping in where the red-haired man couldn’t. So they had struck an alliance of sorts, an implicit deal to help Jaime in any way they could. Jaime's friend would, for example, whisper that the golden-haired man didn’t eat and she would bring him some dry meat and not leave until he ate. He grumbled a lot but ate anyway so she didn’t care. She began to understand that she had some power too in this convoluted situation of theirs and resolved to use it for his sake.

This time, however, she felt totally helpless. Addam also seemed worried. While conversing, they deduced that it wasn’t something happening during the day, as one of them was always with him. Which left the nights. He promised to stay near his tent that night to try to understand what was happening. She wanted to stay too but he told her to go to sleep, for she needed her strength in case of need.

She retired early that night but couldn’t sleep immediately, Jaime’s tired face hunting her. She finally fell asleep after what felt like hours, only to hear her name being uttered just outside the opening of her tent.

“Lady Brienne, quick! You have to come!” whispered Addam urgently.

She woke up in a second and exited the tent as quick as possible, shivering when her bare feet touched the cold ground. She forgot quickly as he looked worried. “What’s happening? Where is Jaime?” she murmured quickly.

Addam just made a sign with his head and she followed him to Jaime’s tent. He moved one of the flaps of the entrance for her to get in. She was about to protest about this breach of impropriety when a painful moan hit her ears. 

“He is having horrible nightmares. Please, my Lady, help him out if you can,” was the man’s plea.

She wanted to protest again _she wasn’t important enough to help_ when another moan was heard. It was so full of pain that she entered the tent quickly. 

It took time for her eyes to adjust to the darkness in the tent, but she could finally see Jaime’s face. It looked tortured and wetness shined on his cheeks, sign that he had cried. Her heart broke. There wasn’t a lot of space, barely a strip of earth on the side of his bedding. She lowered her body until she was laying near his body, her face near his. She bit her lip and hesitated. What could she do? She was never one to comfort somebody else. Her hand hovered near his face, she wanted to wipe his cheeks and be there for Jaime.

He turned towards her and she heard him whimper, “My hand…” 

Her eyes filled with tears. Such pain in his voice, like it just happened right now. Then, her body acted by itself. She wiped his cheeks delicately while uttering some peaceful noises. “Shh, Jaime... I’m here…” She put her trembling fingers on the locks on his head and run them slowly through his mane. “I will always be here for you,” she whispered her vow with a trembling voice, her heartbreaking for her man. 

He grunted suddenly, making her gasp and stop. She began to take her hand away when he whispered, “Don’t stop...please.” He pleaded her with such a tiny voice, like he didn’t dare, and she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. She was cold, with only her undershirt and her breeches and her naked feet, but she wouldn’t stop for anything. She was still caressing his hair and crooning in his ear when she fell asleep. 

She woke up a few hours later to the feeling of fingers carding through her hair, and warmth all around her. She opened her eyes and saw Jaime’s face close to hers, the furs spread on them both and his left hand caressing her hair, the same way she did before falling asleep.

She felt herself blush at such close proximity, Jaime looking at her face with a fondness she never recognized before. From the obscurity in the tent, it was probably near dawn and she would have to go soon to avoid bad gossip from spreading around. But she couldn’t take her eyes from Jaime’s face. Jaime who was still caressing her hair softly while letting his eyes travel all over her face, like he was memorizing every piece of it. She smiled at him, feeling a little bashful and she saw his lips stretch in kind. The sweetness of the moment lulled them both into a state of quiet rapture. She felt warm and happy, like Jaime and she were the only persons in the vicinity. She wanted it to last forever.

Suddenly, Jaime’s smile faded and the air became tense. His hand stopped its slow caress of her hair to cup her face, his thumb resting at the corner of her mouth. She saw him look at her lips then back into her eyes, then back to her lips again. Her breath caught. 

He was so close so she couldn’t misunderstand, could she? _Did he want to...? Would he really…_ She felt faint as she saw him close the distance, his half-closed eyes fixed on her lips and she closed her own eyes in anticipation, her mouth opening slightly…

“Lady Brienne, are you awake?” came Addam’s voice from just outside the tent, shattering the moment into a million pieces. “You have to go back now if you wish to avoid being seen by the others.”

Brienne wide eyes were looking at Jaime in dismay, her expression reflected in his eyes. He bit his lip then kissed her forehead tenderly, and she closed her eyes to hide the tears of frustration building rapidly in them. When she opened her eyes again, Jaime had a sad little smile on his face. She couldn’t even begin to think about the reason when Addam called again, more urgently. 

She got up quickly, wincing when her back twinged from the night passed on the cold hard ground, then shivering from the cold morning air. Opening the flap of Jaime’s tent showed a thick fog outside and the red-haired man waiting for her with a cape lined with fur. She hoped it would be enough to hide her until she regained her tent. “Quick!” he reminded her while pressing the cape on her shoulders. She turned one last time to see Jaime whispering ‘thank you’ before being propelled to her tent by the red-headed man.

She fell on her bedding with the cape around her and her face smashed against the furs, hiding the redness of her cheeks. She groaned into the furs, her mind in a state of chaos. She bit her bottom lip to contain the scream _gagging_ to get out of her. Her tired mind didn’t know what to think. Was that stolen moment a figment of her imagination? A fantasy born out of her frustrated mind? A convincing hallucination? A sweet dream? He had been about to kiss her, she couldn’t be wrong, could she? His name was the last thing on her lips when she finally fell asleep, exhausted by all the emotions of the night.  


  


  
After giving a little nod to Addam in gratitude, Jaime fell back on his thin bedding and put both arms on his face, pressing them down to muffle the frustrated groan that escaped his mouth. They had nearly… And she had been ready, receptive to his touch. 

He had been drowning in his nightmares when he had felt the touch of her kind fingers on his hair. He knew it was her for his trusted friend wouldn’t have let anybody else inside. He had been pathetically grateful for her touch and her words. His black tormentors flew away and left only his marvelous lady Knight, staying near him to protect his slumber. She had slain his ghosts with her sole presence at his side. He couldn’t get enough of her touch and tears nearly escaped him when she had wanted to go. The selfish man that he was, he had to beg for more, and she had listened to his plea. Like a mother, she had lulled him to sleep with her loving touch and he couldn’t remember the last time somebody took care of him like that, without asking for compensation. Actually, he did remember. Harrenhal. The baths. The other day in his tent, after learning about Myrcella’s attack. Brienne had been there too. _I love you so much_, he thought before falling asleep.

He hadn’t slept a lot, as he had too many preoccupations, but those few hours with her had rejuvenated him better than a full-night sleep on the most comfortable bed. He woke up to her sleeping face and couldn’t help but wish to wake up that way every morn. Then, he saw her and cursed himself. She was cold, asleep on the ground with neither furs nor warm clothing. She had been there for him without any thoughts of her own comfort. He felt at once elated and full of shame. 

As he covered her with his furs and built a cocoon of warmth around them both, getting closer to her to share his body heat with her, he thought again that she had to love him greatly indeed. And his heart began to beat faster. He used her slumber to look at her face, a smile playing on his lips as her body began to register the warmth. She shivered and burrowed further in the furs and she smiled a little before falling deeply asleep again. He hoped she dreamed of him, the way he will now dream of her. After some time, he couldn’t help himself and began to run his fingers through her straw-like hair. His heart nearly bursting with joy, he felt young, and innocent and in love again. She, of course, woke up when she felt his touch but she seemed as taken as he was by the serene atmosphere. She seemed as desirous as him to feel a kind touch, a gentle hand. And he wanted this to last forever. 

It would have stayed that way, a pure and mystical moment, if he hadn’t seen her bit and wet her bottom lip. He knew her, there was no calculation in this. She was no seductress. But the sight made his smile melt and the tension rise. And he couldn’t think of anything else but _kissing_ her. He focused on her mouth, with her plump wide lips, and he craved being the first one to feel their moisture and plunder the depths hidden behind them. He had never felt such a yearning for a kiss before. His hand stopped caressing her hair to cup her jaw. His thumb rested on the corner of her slightly opened mouth, feeling the warm puffs of air quickly leaving her mouth. It made him shudder, his own breaths speeding up. Her wide eyes showed him that she was not so innocent as to not understand what was happening between them. He breached the distance between them and she closed her eyes, and he could feel her breath on his lips and his heart was about to give out when... 

Damn his ‘friend’ to the Seven Hells, couldn’t he have waited just one moment more! He punched the bedding dejectedly. She had been willing! She had _seen_ that he wanted her. He hoped she will remember the fact and not retract behind her walls of doubt and self-deprecation.

He groaned and got up. He will never be able to sleep now. He will use the early hours to train with Addam and try to pummel him to death. He hoped it will be a good way to get rid of his frustration.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was ok, I'm nervous after so long lol
> 
> Is there still someone reading it *voice echoes in the dark*


	6. On their way to King's Landing - Part2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am finally done with this one. I do not want to see this fic for… forever! LOL. No, that would be too much, but I was about to spit blood on this one. Still, it is done and I am happy for it.
> 
> Thanks to JailynnW for proofreading this 10,000 words monster and for her continued support. This chapter is on archive partially thanks to her ^^. Thanks for my braime friends on Braime without Borders WhatsApp chat. Every conversation with you gives me the strength to continue. 
> 
> For all those who follow this story, review, kudoes or just read it. Thank you for your patience and sorry for the wait. I hope it was worth it!

  
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CHAPTER 6

  
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The journey continued without hassle and to Jaime’s consternation, his prediction had come true like a grim prophecy. She had become shy in his presence again, blushing as hard as the first days and squirming greatly when he stood near her. Jaime found it ironic _a real divine jape actually_ for her attitude was surely interpreted as having been the recipient of naughty deeds when he had never even touched lips with hers.

This time, however, the golden lion didn’t let her retreat. He spent most of the time shadowing her and being painfully close. He never kissed her hand so much nor put his arm around her waist more than those days after the near-kiss. He knew now that she loved him in every way a woman could love a man. He had no intention of avoiding their mutual attraction again. So he crowded her, forcing her to bear his presence, and using the men around them to justify his attitude.

Yet, despite her irritation at his attitude, she still asked if he slept well every morning, always checked if the nightmares had returned. Still helped him cut his meat come supper time. And it would warm him up again and the frustration would abate for the day. Fortunately, the night she had spent with him seemed to have put his bad nights to rest for the moment. And if he did wake up sometimes, sweat cooling on his brow, he just had to remember their interlude to calm down fairly quickly. She probably would come if he hadn’t forbidden Addam to fetch her when that situation arose again. 

Still, she never talked about the near-kiss and he didn’t know how to bring it up without giving away his plans. So he was stuck in this frustrating limbo, driven to distraction in turns by the sweetness she could never really hide and her irritation when they butted heads. He figured that they may very well kill each other before even arriving at the altar.

  


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They were still stuck in that emotional limbo when their party made camp not far from Lord Harroway’s town, between the River Road and the Red fork. From their high point, they could see the forks converging, meaning that they will soon get to the Kingsroad. 

He was still thinking about the situation many nights later, unable to find a solution. The night in the tent replayed in his head, and he thought dreamily of all the ways this could have ended for the better. In his fantasies, Addam wasn’t there to ruin the day and his willing maid was yielding under his insatiable ministrations.

Jaime humphed when a big weight landed on his back. Having been entrenched deep in his thoughts, he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings. A deep laugh gave away the attacker’s identity. 

“Go away, you oaf!” Jaime hissed while trying to escape Addam rubbing his scalp painfully and messing up his hair with his fist. Addam guffawed even more before circling the log he was posed on and sitting near him.

“What are you sulking about, you ornery child!?” he stated after one look and Jaime glared at him.

“Should I remind you that we are practically the same age? Or is your brain too soft after too many knocks on the head?” the golden-haired man grumbled without any humor whatsoever.

“I am still older by one year,” sung Addam while trusting his chin up to show his superiority.

“Three months do not one year make.” snorted Jaime. He didn’t have the strength to argue with his best friend. “Whatever,” the blond-haired man grumbled, hoping his friend will leave him be.

Addam tisked, "By the Warrior's teats, aren't you prickly today?" He laughed loudly at Jaime’s growl, totally unafraid. "If I had half the gifts the Gods had granted you, I would be king of Westeros by now!" The redhaired man punched him in the arm.

_If only Addam knew_, thought Jaime ironically as he rubbed his arm. He really could have been. He was smarter than that through.

“You mean that you would love a golden hand like mine?” said Jaime bitterly while raising the golden replica up and shaking it under his best friend’s nose. Addam trained with him. He knew that his loss had destroyed his talent with the sword.

Addam punched him again, harder, “You are still the only man here with a Lady at his arm.” He pointed at the camp, “The Lady does not seem to care much about that.”

And Jaime was reminded of the reason for his black mood.

His best friend rolled his eyes. “What is it, my friend?” asked Addam, “you look quite desolate.”

Jaime grumbled then sighed in aggravation, “Nothing is happening.”

“It seemed to me that something happened,” retorted Addam. He punched Jaime gently on his shoulder, “Mayhaps this knight has taken some liberties with his Lady?” 

Jaime growled again, “He may have if you had waited a little more.” He rubbed his forehead in irritation.

“I thought you would want the lady to have an unblemished reputation,” snorted the red-haired man, nonplussed. “My apologies for caring!”

“She would still have an untainted reputation if you had waited just a little more,” sighed Jaime, “now she's avoiding me again and avoids staying alone in my company.” He rubbed his stubble. “Tis’ strange. I miss her. Yet she's always near me.”

Addam shrugged, “I thought you cared for her and her reputation, you told me-”

"Enough, Addam!” Jaime sighed, “I do care, more than you imagine about my Lady's good name.” He rubbed his face roughly. “Cannot a man be frustrated In peace!"  
Addam blinked at him several times. “What?” said Jaime defensively, bracing his shoulders, “haven't I the right to-”

Addam smiled and Jaime froze because he knew this smile. It always meant pain and embarrassment for the recipient. the other man suddenly put his head in a headlock and scrubbed his hair roughly with his fist again.

“Ad-ad-wha…” Jaime wheezed, barely able to breathe let alone speak, “...sto-”

“My boy finally became a man!” Addam mock-cried. “You were so aloof before, never even peeking at the women, never sampling their fares. And now look at you, all bothered because of a lady!!!” He spun, which put Jaime in the painful position of following the moves to avoid falling on the ground.

“Addam! Stop right now, you oaf!” Jaime tried to push him away but his friend was too massive and his position didn’t give him a lot of leverage.

“Are you trying to kill Ser Jaime?” said a feminine voice behind them.

Addam whirled again_which made Jaime snarl and whirl quickly too_ only to watch an amused Brienne look at them. She didn't look offended so Addam didn't care to release him from his trap.

“Do you really need him in one piece, my Lady?” asked the red-haired man jovially, “the head, while well-made, is quite empty.” He knocked on his lord’s head in demonstration. He got a whack of golden hand in his thigh for his trouble and released Jaime by reflex. They both knelt on the grass and glared at each other; the blond man wheezing and coughing, the other wincing and rubbing his thigh.

“If you do not mind terribly, Ser Marbrand,” she finally answered, cutting their glaring match short.

“Only for you, my lady,” Addam answered gallantly with a deep bow. “Alas, my numerous duties require my presence but I will gladly see you tomorrow for a spar. If you are agreeable, my Lady?”

Brienne nodded regally, “It will be my pleasure, Lord Marbrand.” 

Addam went to Brienne and kissed the back of her hand, making Jaime growl. “Please, my Lady. We are good friends now. Call me Addam,” he said with a toothy smile.

Brienne rolled her eyes good-naturedly, “Goodnight, my Lord.” 

Addam bowed and walked away, throwing a casual ‘Beat you up tomorrow, Lannister!’ over his shoulder. 

“Not if I beat you first, you cad!” retorted Jaime, gritting his teeth. He will use his golden hand in the next bout to slap Addam around. A hand entered his field of vision as he planned his friend’s demise. Brienne was smiling softly at him, waiting for him to use her hand to prompt himself up. He forgot about his woes and accepted her offer. Bringing himself to his full height and smiling back at her.

“You saved me again, my Lady,” he said sincerely. He felt touched by the way she was always there to help him up, even from a silly thing as a brawl with a friend. He kept her hand in his, unwilling to let go of his anchor just yet.

She blushed delightfully under his eyes, the red becoming more pronounced when he didn’t stop looking nor released her hand. He finally put a delicate kiss on her knuckles, murmuring his thanks against her skin. Squirming greatly under his scrutiny, she stammered a ‘goodnight’ before she retreated to her tent, leaving him smiling and charmed. 

It should be ridiculous, to be so enamored with just holding her hand and look into her eyes. But Brienne made all their interactions significant and intense and he went to sleep, his frustration still burning high but a little more bearable for a while.

  


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It took a sennight and several events for their relationship to return to its original state, his stubbornness surpassing by far Brienne’s own obstinacy. He would scarcely leave her side when she wanted to put some distance between them. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t bear to be shut out without explanation. He ruthlessly used the words _debt_, _spies_ and _honor_ as weapons she couldn’t defend against. Sometimes, he could feel her boiling next to him like an erupting volcano. 

“Jaime, you have to leave me alone for ten minutes or I will kill you,” Brienne growled after trying to avoid him one day for the better part of the morn.

“And I need you to give me a good reason,” replied Jaime, incensed himself. He invaded her space to whisper furiously, “Have you another man to _entertain_, wench?” He barely had time to feel guilty at her hurt expression when he found himself on his back, his legs having been swiped by Brienne. She looked at him silently before turning her back on him and going away. He sighed heavily and decided to let her calm down before trying to repair his last cock-up.

After some time, he found her sitting near the river beside their camp. He approached and sat near her on the same rock she used. She was about to get up when he gripped her arm. He could feel the tension in her appendage and knew he had to deliver a prompt explanation or she would leave.

“I was practically never alone in my life,” he said softly, his words nearly covered by the noise of the water. Only the slight turn of Brienne’s head showed that she was listening. “From my first breath, I was always part of a unit. Part of a group. I do not remember being alone, somebody always shares my memories. Most of the time, it is my twin sister. But I do have an extended family so I never felt alone. Then I was a squire, then a Knight. Always with people around me, part of a group.” He dared to take her hand in his and she didn’t draw hers away, even if she turned her torso a little so her back was more to him. “It is excruciating to try to form a group with you Brienne, and to force you to be in it every time. It hurts me. Is it such a horrible fate?” She didn’t answer but her hand lost some of its rigidity. She was listening. 

“More than anything, I am happy to be in your presence after so long. We never had time to be together without antipathy or tension between us. I enjoyed our time together in the camp but I was terribly busy there too. Finally, I am not bogged down with responsibilities and we are not at the mercy of some cutthroats. Yet, when I want to spend my free time with you, you recoil and flee. I do consider you a dear friend of mine, even without this... arrangement between us. I want to know you better, Brienne. And when you shut me out without explanation, I feel that it is personal. It makes me believe that I did you wrong and I react badly to that.”

Brienne’s body jerked a little at the end of his explanation, then she moved again so she was facing him. Her blue eyes scrutinized his face for a long time. It seemed that the pain he felt was showing enough in his expression because she began to talk.

“I was always mostly alone,” she said softly. “My father loves me more than anything. But the losses of my mother, sisters and finally my older brother were hard on his spirit. I was but a little child. I barely remember them but I still feel their loss. My father was gutted. And his grief and pain made him distant. The running of Tarth took the rest of his time. I was put under a septa.” She paused for some time there and he suspected that there was more under that she dared to say. She took a deep breath before she continued, “He took lovers to fill his nights and his duty filled his days and I got what was left.” Her gaze turned distant, sad. He was hurting down to his toes with her pain. On the other hand, a part of his heart was memorizing every new detail she was saying. It was more than she had ever said before. Knowing these new morsels of her story fascinated him. “I think he let me take the sword to assuage some of his guilt. After my broken engagements, I suppose he tried to alleviate the pain he made me go through by letting me choose my path.”

“He would be proud if he saw your last intended,” said Jaime with a smirk, his hand squeezing hers briefly. 

Brienne tried to contain her smile, “Oh yes! The cocky Lord of Casterly Rock!” They looked at each other and laughed softly. He could feel himself breathing easier, the tension in him slowly falling a notch. “Would he really be proud if he knew how it came to be?” Brienne continued with a half-smile, her tone darkly amused. 

Jaime squeezed her hand again, more forcefully this time. “Is it really important? Shouldn’t the fact that we stand together against the whole world be more important than everything else, Brienne?” He didn’t really expect her to agree. The way he brought them together was too twisted for that. In her place, he would have fought the contract with every breath. Only her decency and her love for him_he still felt warm at the idea_ made her compliant. But he wanted her to think about it. He wanted to put the idea in her head, that they were better together than apart.

He took a deep breath. “Would you promise to ask me if you need some time alone? I promise to grant it to you with no question asked,” he asked quietly. She took her hand back and he felt a pinch in his heart at the loss of her touch.

“What are you losing in this?” she asked bitterly. “I make all the concessions. All the compromises ask me to give another piece of myself. What are you sacrificing Jaime?”

He thought about it. She was mostly right. From the moment she put her feet in his tent she was at his mercy. She always was the one to give and he had to give her something too now. 

Unexpected guilt took hold of him. So much guilt that he was choking on it. This whole situation was mostly for his benefit. He had justified his actions by telling himself that she loved him too, hence this would work in their favor in an equal way. Yet, it was unfair. Her palpable bitterness showed him that his cunning tactics hurt her more than he had thought. He had thought only about his future ideal wife but had forgotten to take into account the real woman’s feelings. 

While he had grown with the belief that the end justifies the means, Brienne didn’t condone such proceedings. While he had been her captive, she had been harsh by obligation but had never treated him in an inhuman way. They had hated each other but she had never refused him the basic necessities and he had seen her core of decency even then. Guilt rose in his throat again. He truly admitted now that his treachery was a poor way of repaying her for all her good deeds. 

“It is new for me too.” She opened her mouth but he continued before she could protest. “I told you that I was always part of a group, especially with my twin. It didn’t mean that we were equals. Cersei never really asked about me. I can now admit that everything in our twisted relationship was for her benefit. It was all about her and her needs.” 

He stared at her. He had wanted to marry her and show her his love when they were tied irremediably in the eyes of Men and Gods. But it was wrong. He had to begin now. He had to change their unequal relationship now or she may revile him forever. He had to seek a more balanced rapport between them... for her sake and for his too. Or they will be lost, love turned to hate. He knew better than most how easily those two emotions could replace each other.

“I want to do better with you, Brienne. I want a better base, a deeper understanding of each other in our relationship. I want us to develop a real unity. A true rapport between equals. An unshakable belief in each other.” He took her hand in his again. “We will need each other the most when we will be in King’s Landing. I want us to be certain of our mutual support.” His eyes connected with hers and he hoped she got all the seriousness of his words, “Above all, I genuinely want to know Brienne of Tarth and I hope she wants to know Jaime Lannister.” His heart was thundering in his chest. He had to stop before he talked of tender feelings that she was not ready to accept.

“You talk of understanding, yet you accused me of ‘entertaining’ another man,” she said, her gaze full of reproach and hurt. He held onto her hand as she tried to withdraw. He coughed uneasily. 

“I apologize for my words, Brienne,” he grumbled ashamed. “I was exasperated with your withdrawals and I admit that I have a tendency to lash out when hurt. I promise to work on my temper if you do not shut me out and leave me to stumble blindly without explanation when you are in a mood.” He struggled with himself. “My sister used this a lot, you see,” his companion stiffened, as expected, “While it is unfair and a gross untruth to ever believe you to be able of such tactics, it is an attitude I do not react well to. She knew how attached I was to her and would be cold on purpose, pushing me away. I learned later that she used those times apart to be with other men. I apologize Brienne, for you are infinitely better than her, but I cannot help my reaction just yet.” 

He hung his head in shame and despair. She surely will hate him now. To bring Cersei into the conversation had been a mistake, but it was the underlying reason for his darkest mood and the vile words and actions gushing out of him sometimes. He let her hand loose and sighed. There was no hope for him.

“I promise to tell you when I need some time by myself.”

Jaime looked back at her and she was looking at him seriously. As serious as the day he gave her Oathkeeper. He nodded in gratitude, thankful that she was so generous. “I promise to work on my temper,” he vowed as seriously.

He did not know what he looked like at that moment but Brienne suddenly ducked her head with a mighty blush. Jaime dearly loved her blush, and he would never tire of trying to bring more of this redness on her cheeks. However, after the important step forwards they had both just taken, he would contain his need… just this once.

“Thank you, Brienne,” he said with his heart in his eyes. 

He hoped she saw that he was serious. From the red that suffused her cheeks, as she bravely looked into his eyes without her usual deflection, he felt that he had succeeded. And the prospect filled him with joy.

  


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It took another event to bring them back to normal, and it pertained to Brienne’s very nature. She was so used to camp life that she was accepted by all as a brother-at-arms. It was easy to forget that she was a woman when she dressed like a man, did the same chores as a man, and never asked for any preferential treatment. Jaime was also guilty of sometimes forgetting that, even if he was the most conscious of her gender.

One early morning, Jaime didn’t see Brienne in the camp. She would wake up early to train with him but she was absent. Going to her tent and calling out to her didn’t bring an answer, so he decided to get inside to check. The first thing he saw were drops of blood on her bedding. Understanding what happened, he went in search of Brienne. 

He found her near a stream, washing her strained braies with one hand then dunking them in the water, one hand frequently pressing on her stomach. He sighed sadly. His beloved was so used to do everything by herself that she didn’t even think of asking him for help. He got closer then sat near her on the bank, his left hand grasping the wet material so her free hand could scrub the soiled linen more easily. She gasped in horror, “Jaime, no!” They began a tug of war over the wet linen.

He rolled his eyes, “Brienne, some moon blood will not offend my eyes. I am a soldier and I can assure you that I scrubbed my white cloak off strains more than I care to remember. Also,” he leaned over so she could see his face. “I may have been delirious but I remember a kind maiden cleaning worse matters off my clothes and body. So I would be glad to be of service. I would love for you to lean on me when needed, Brienne. Remember, mutual support.”

Brienne looked down and blushed. After a few moments, she nodded. “T...Thanks, Jaime...But you have to turn your head.” He looked at her incredulously. 

“Seriously? I just told you...” She just looked at him stubbornly, her face aflame. He sighed and turned his head, “Satisfied?” Her ‘yes’ sounded so happy that he surrendered with good grace. Actually, he grumbled until she finished but there was no real heat to it. She began to slowly scrub the linen again while he smiled, happy that she agreed to let him help. 

They came back to the camp after finishing, talking amicably until he sent her to her tent to rest. Jaime used the heavy rains as an excuse to stay put and to let Brienne rest. As she felt really unwell, she didn’t protest too much and the fact that Jaime brought her herbal tea and soup kept her as mellow and happy as she could be in such a state. That night she thanked him with a mighty blush and he went to sleep with a smile on his face. Being appreciated for such little deeds was a powerful feeling to him. 

The day after, he had the perfect idea to give her time to rest. While the camp members broke fast, he announced to his men that they were going to stay put for another two days and have a tournament. The cheers following his words showed the soldiers’ enthusiasm at those happy tidings.

  


  


Pod made haste as much as he could with the bowl of hot soup in his hands. The burning liquid often scalded his fingers but he couldn’t curb his enthusiasm. He entered his knight’s tent just as she tried to get up from her cot, her hand falling from her stomach quickly. Seeing this, Pod brought her the soup then tried to discreetly wipe his hands on his hose.

“Thank you, Pod,” she said with a pained smile and Pod bit his lip in worry. “What was this clamor I just heard? Did something happen?” She took a sip then gasped as she scalded her tongue. She then blew on the liquid several times to cool it down.

Pod was reminded of the morn’s tidings and began to squirm from one foot to the other. He bit his bottom lip to suppress the huge smile that threatened to take over but he was clearly unsuccessful because Lady Brienne frowned at him. “What is it, Pod?”

“The-There is a tourney!” he burst out loudly. 

His Lady blinked, “A tournament?” Pod nodded so rapidly and so much that he felt pain in his neck when he stopped. “Where exactly?” Brienne frowned, “I do not remember us being near a big town.”

“No,” he rolled his eyes. “Here, bet-between us. Lord Jaime said that we nee-ee-ded to have more e-ex-exercise than just-ut ride our horses to the ground and that-that it would be a merry event. Ex-extating!”

“Exciting,” Brienne corrected automatically and Pod nodded.

“The first day would be for the squires, my Lady! And to-tomorrow will be the kni-iiights’ turn!” Pod squealed with excitement and his Lady smiled. 

“That’s very good news, Podrick,” she said with a little nod, “it will be a good experience to measure yourself against other squires.”

“Oh! I can’t, my Lady-Ser,” exclaimed Pod seriously. “I have to-t-to take ca-ree of you.” He looked down, “but I wo-ouuld like t-to watch-hh, if you don’t mind, my Lady-Ser.”

“Pod,” she said seriously and he looked up timidly, “while I appreciate your devotion, I would largely prefer to see you fighting and test your mettle.” He opened his mouth to protest but she stopped him with her hand on his shoulder. “I will not accept anything else.” He deflated, “We seldom had an occasion of finding you opponents, little Podrick. You will never know, and it goes down for me too, how much you learned until you test your knowledge against another opponent. Better to try against another squire in a controlled fight and not against someone wanting to take your life. Do you understand, Pod?”

He nodded dejectedly. “Yes, my Lady...Ser.”

“Aren’t you the least bit happy?” said Brienne perplexed. Pod nodded excitedly then dropped his shoulders again. “You shouldn’t worry too much. From what I saw, you should be able to defend yourself.”

“W-Who will take c-ca-care of you, my Lady...Ser?” he murmured. “I won’t b-be there tooo-to do it.”

“Your concern is admirable, Podrick of House Payne, but not necessary.” Jaime Lannister entered the tent with Peck at his back. Peck bowed his head at Brienne with a smile and put two bowls of hot soup near her bedding. Then, Jaime sat near her cot and put one of the bowls near his hip.

“As you can see, little Pod, I will keep your Lady company. Every need of hers will be provided for, you have my word.” He smirked, “As such, you should go train with Peck here. He will tell you everything about the rules since you run before hearing them.” He waved them away with his hand and he had no choice but to go.

“Good luck, Pod. Train hard and make me proud,” Brienne said with a nod of encouragement.

Pod smiled then bowed and followed Peck outside, taking care to leave the front panels wide open. After seeing that his Lady could be watched from the outside, he let himself be excited again. He couldn’t wait for the tournament to begin.

  


  


Brienne felt relieved when Pod left her tent’s flaps wide open. Just the fact of Jaime being in her tent reminded her of another instance that she had tried really hard to forget. Not that she was successful.

Her stomach contracted and she grimaced. She put her bowl of soup aside and her hand came to rest on her stomach to stroke automatically. She sighed. It was her luck that she was a real woman only for its inconveniences. 

“Still hurting?” questioned Jaime with solicitude.

Brienne blushed, still not used to talk about such private subjects with… anyone actually. The few conversations she had on the subject had been with her septa. She had never wanted to talk about it again after that. She nodded and murmured, “The first two days generally.” She turned her head away, not able to look at him. “A tournament?” she asked suddenly, desperately wishing to talk of something else.

Jaime hummed in question. She turned to look at him and he was watching her with raised eyebrows. He shook his head slightly in question. “Why decide to have a tournament? Shouldn’t we head to King’s Landing post-haste?” she clarified.

He put his empty bowl on the ground and scratched his stubble. “While we do have to get to King’s Landing in as soon as possible, we do not have to suffer on the way. Also, the journey is highly monotonous. It is not good for men. They need some release and it is an easy way to get entertainment and avoid stupid quarrels. Here, they get the right to fight each other and tensions will go down.” 

Brienne blinked in surprise. “What is it?” asked Jaime.

“I never thought about it that way,” she answered, thoughtful. “I always thought tourneys were about prowess and the way of proving one’s mettle in combat.”

Jaime nodded, “It is but a little part of it. Mostly it is about giving the small folk some entertainment so they forget their frustrations for a short moment. It also permits knights to preen and fight in mock battles without it having devastating consequences. Generally, as deaths can still occur.”

Jaime smiled at her, “I wish for you to be there as my guest. Do you agree?”

Brienne blanched, “Thank you, my Lord. But I prefer to stay in my tent. I hope the tournament will be successful.” She felt frantic with the need to dissuade him.

Jaime frowned, “You surely love a good tourney, my Lady. What would stop you from seeing that one? Especially with Pod competing and wanting to impress his Lady… Ser.”

“Jaime, please,” she groaned exasperatedly. She was irritable and her stomach hurt. She didn’t want to fight him too. “You promised to leave me alone when asked to.”  
“And you promised to talk to me and share your burdens,” retorted Jaime stubborn.

“I am hurting, I will be a poor company, my Lord,” Brienne said, looking to the side. 

“We traveled together for months and I never saw you felled down by it. You did everything you had to do and I do not remember you even stopping for a moment because of that.” Of course, he had something to say about that. She bristled and snarled in frustration. 

“Jaime!” she cried in anger.

“I need a good explanation, I need to understand,” he said firmly. They both stared at each other, his calm countering her anger. She deflated at once.  
Brienne blushed hard and whispered, “It is ridiculous.” Her free hand pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and stayed there, in part to hide her face from his inquisitive gaze. 

The blond-haired man said seriously, “It doesn’t seem ridiculous to me. From what I see, it is something that greatly perturbs you.” She was about to protest when he whispered while looking down, “I need you there, I do not think I can endure it if I am alone.”

She rubbed at her face with her free hand. With her hand still hiding most of her face, she asked softly, “What will be the prize of the tournament?”

Jaime’s face showed his puzzlement. He answered anyway, “Well, traditionally, the victorious knight crowns the Lady of his choice with a wreath of flowers and-” Brienne hung her head and Jaime stopped abruptly.

Brienne couldn’t look at him, too ashamed. She could only see that tournament ending with humiliation for her. No matter the way it went, she would be hurt at the end. If she got the crown as the only Lady in attendance, she could predict the jeers and japes at her expense. If she didn’t get it, then it would be worse. That a knight would deliberately choose another man for this honor would cut her deep. And the jeers and japes would still be there… Leaving aside the fact that she hated flowers, she wouldn’t be able to take it. And having Jaime see that would be too much.

  


  


“Well, traditionally, the victorious knight crowns the Lady of his choice with a wreath of flowers and-”

Jaime sucked in a breath. Watching Brienne’s misery because of a stupid crown of flowers drove him mad. He wanted to refute and argue, but he could guess her concerns and worries. She had never been treated gallantly by the supposedly chivalrous knights and nobles she met. It was logical for her to expect the worse.   
While he highly doubted that somebody would dare insult her in front of him, he can not vouch for the soldiers’ attitude after merriment and mead softened their tongues. The Seven knows what they would say then. While he would gladly put a crown of flowers on her head for she was his Queen of Love and Beauty, most of the other men would do the same with derision, if not on their lips then in their heart. 

He had a perfect idea. He was about to tell her but his words died before being uttered. Not so long ago, he had told her that he wanted them to be equals, that he craved unity and mutual support. It was time to prove that it was not just pretty words.

“Let us find a solution. We may find another way if we think about it together,” said Jaime after a long pause. Brienne looked at him with surprise but agreed with a little smile. Jaime smiled back at her with relief. They could do it. 

Together, they began to search for a better outcome.

  


  


“Would you stop squirming? It is highly distracting,” murmured Jaime, barely moving his lips. He was smiling at the line of squires standing proudly in front of him, and consequently, her. 

The ground in the middle of the camp had been cleared and a flimsy barrier erected to show the limits of the battleground. A big log had been rolled for the Lord’s tribune and a line of smaller logs were surrounding the arena, all the soldiers and knights sitting on them and hollering for their squires. She had tried to sit on one of the smaller logs but Jaime had gripped her elbow and made her sit on the biggest log before sitting at her side.

She couldn’t believe it. She got to sit with Jaime in place of honor, like... a queen to his king. She felt the heat of her blush on her cheeks and deplored for a thousand time her inability to control this particular body reaction. She gripped Oathkeeper’s hilt in reassurance _ Jaime had insisted she took it back, if not to defend herself then to protect him_ and took a deep breath. She was still not used to being seated at the place of honor, or as his official companion. While it had happened in the Lannister camp often enough, she could ignore it because of the number of people and the fact that everybody was busy enough with their own conversations. Even Pod looking at her with pride was not enough to distract her.

Here, everybody was looking at _him_, but she was close enough to feel as if their stares were on _her_ and it made her anxious. 

“Calm down, Brienne,” Jaime soothed, “it is only a way to make merry and relax the men.” He smiled at her, “If it helps any, concentrate on your squire or on me when you feel overwhelmed.” She blushed even more. His last advice didn’t help her at all. He leaned forward and she had no choice but to lean in too, “I will tell you a great secret of mine if you wish?” She looked into his green eyes and couldn’t help but nod, curious. “I hate being the center of attention, it makes me nervous.” She opened her eyes wide, her mouth taking a round shape in surprise. She was so stunned by his revelation that she forgot to cover her teeth with her hand. He smiled and leaned even closer to her, murmuring into her ear, “To get over my anxiety, I imagine them naked.” He retreated then and laughed at her scandalized face. He then got up, “Thanks for our valorous knights and squires for coming, my intended and I declare the tournament open!”

The sound of loud claps and merry exclamations covered her laugh.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


Brienne clapped loudly next to Jaime. The sun was setting and the first day of the tournament was done. While there had been no real excitement at watching children beat each other up with sticks with no finesse nor technique; the mud had provoked some impressive falls and had brought some surprising twists to the fights. Some squires had been smart enough to capitalize on the terrain and had shown some remarkable tactical aptitudes for their age. She was surprised at how much she had enjoyed herself in the end.

All in all, the squires’ tournament had been good. While Pod didn’t win _not that Brienne expected him to with his lack of experience_ he didn’t finish last either. Of the thirteen squires covered in mud, Pod had placed eight. Brienne was glad to see that her squire seemed proud of himself and smiled despite his split lip and the goose egg on his head. She had a better idea of his strengths and weaknesses and knew what to concentrate on now. All in all, it had been an informative day for both of them. 

Brienne was surprised at the amount of worry Pod's fights gave her. While a huge part of her had encouraged him and cheered every time he struck a good blow, a tiny part of her heart had winced every time he got hurt. Jaime often had to put his hand on her arm to stop her from rising and going to the boy's rescue. "You have to spare his pride if not his body," he had murmured once and she had nodded briskly. He had smiled and added, "You taught him the art of the sword quite well, the spar will teach him the reality of it. You have to let him experience that." 

"I know," she had answered between her teeth and winced when Pod got a mighty whack in the ribs, but she had contained her will to reach for him from then on. Her heart had swelled to burst when Jaime cheered for her squire too and they had both clapped loudly when Pod won his fights.

In the end, Jaime’s squire Peck won the squires’ tournament and bowed with a big smile to Jaime first, then to Brienne, and finally to Addam. When she raised an eyebrow in question, her companion explained that Peck got his sword training from his best friend. He didn’t explain further but Brienne felt her heart constrict at his wistful tone and the distant look in his eyes.

When Jaime took her to her tent that night after a merry supper where the squires got instructed and mocked in turns, she leaned towards him a little closer than before and let herself enjoy his proximity for the first time since the arrangement. They silently walked to her tent, then bypassed it and continued on, both equally reluctant to end the evening. No words were spoken between them but the atmosphere was heavy with untold feelings and when he finally left her that night, his ‘sweet dreams, my Lady’ seemed more loaded with meaning than usual. Her ‘goodnight, my Lord’ was also a testimony of the deep feelings filling her being.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


The day of the knights’ tournament was bittersweet for her, and surely for Jaime too. 

The squires had replaced the knights on the logs and their masters were busy warming up before their bouts. Only Jaime and Brienne retained their previous seat and she tried not to regret her lack of participation too much. Her stomach was still tender, even if the cramps were gone. While not debilitating, it would still impair her ability to fight. 

She had another reason for her abstention: Jaime. She couldn’t let Jaime sit alone while she enjoyed herself. He had treated her with such respect and care that she had to do the same. The second he sported that distant look again, she had to act. She took his hand in hers, for she luckily sat at his left side, and said with a smile, “Let us hope that today’s showing will be as enjoyable as the one from yesterday. Do you agree, my Lord?” 

He really looked at her then, fully present again. His hand gripped hers tightly and he smiled, “I agree only on the condition that you ask _me_ and not Lord Lannister.” 

Brienne flushed at his demand. While she had gotten used to call him by his name when they were alone, she didn’t dare call him in that way in front of so many. Yet, she was determined that he enjoyed the day. “I hope you agree that the tournament should be more entertaining today… Jaime.” 

She held her breath, deeply nervous. As if it was the first time she dared call him that way. Luckily, no comment was made. Actually, only her sitting companion had heard. Jaime looked at her with such a smile that she hopelessly smiled back. He then pulled on the hand he was holding so her arm would be fully extended. He then turned it and kissed the inside of her wrist with soft reverence. She felt her entire body tremble and her eyes fluttered helplessly under the touch of his lips.   
“I believe you are right, my Lady. The day already seems to surpass the one before.”

He then turned his head and announced the beginning of the knights’ tournament. 

The fights that day were infinitely more _vicious_. Brienne winced as she watched from her seat near Jaime. It looked different when you watched. When you are in the middle of a fight everything goes fast and your senses are focused on staying alive no matter the cost. She knew that this state of being translated into savagery but she had expected this mock tourney to be less vicious than usual.

She was mistaken. The men went at each other's throats with vigorous strength and more than once she saw some really underhanded moves. Still, she could see and appreciate some strategic moves, especially from the commanding knights like Addam. Jaime and she spent the time of the tournament analyzing the fights and trying to guess the outcomes. Of course, Jaime won most of the time because he knew his knights and their character better than her. Still, she enjoyed the debates with him as the fights progressed. The Knights were armored so the fights were longer than usual. The armor meaning that they were better protected and it was a question of who would bash the other to insensibility first.

At the end of the tourney, Addam Marbrand stood victorious. Not that there was any surprise in this outcome from what she saw. However, he was such a good fellow that nobody seemed craven about their defeat against him. On the contrary, there was a good deal of friendly back-slapping and japes before Addam came and kneeled before Jaime and she, a wide grin on his face. Loud cheers filled the air as he bowed first to his best friend, then to her as his companion. 

“My Lord and Lady, I defeated all your foes!” he declared with pride. He then had to duck his head as pebbles were thrown his way by his ‘foes’. Still, all was done with mirth and everybody was laughing. The squires were delighted and giggling. Brienne was astonished to witness such good cheer and lack of envy between all those knights. 

Her memories from Renly’s camp had tinted her view of knights and soldiers. To find such unity in an army believed to be foul because of their affiliation broke a lot of her prejudices. She didn’t have the time to reflect on it more as Jaime stood and the cheers went down in volume.  
When the clamor stopped, Jaime turned to her and asked loudly, "What should be the winner's prize, my Lady?"

Brienne breathed and relaxed internally, it was as they had discussed the day before. She pretended to think about it under the soldiers' gaze. "If it pleases my Lord, I think that a flask of your best wine would be a sweet prize after so much exertion." 

Jaime grinned delightfully and bowed gallantly to her, "So has the Lady spoken, bring the mighty prize to the lucky warrior." The volume of the cheers was doubly increased. Some merry exclamations of 'To the Lady!' were heard in the commotion and Brienne ducked her head with a mighty blush and smiled to herself.   
It was her turn now. She got up from her seat and raised her arm to command the soldiers’ attention. All turned to her and silence quickly dominated. She could feel Jaime’s eyes on her and it emboldened her. She took a deep breath.

“I feel it unfair to get all the praise when Lord Jaime here also offers the rest of the soldiers a few flasks of wine to celebrate the tournament,” The clamor raised to the sky. This time, cries of ‘To the Lady’ were joined by exclamations ‘To the Lord’. She smiled happily and felt Jaime get closer to her to observe the general merriment her announcement had caused. They grinned at each other.

It had been her condition. Equality as he had claimed. Jaime had wanted her to get some praise by letting her offering the prize, thus distracting the men of the ritual of the flower crown. She had desired to thank Jaime for his consideration and refused to take all the praise for herself. They had both been stubborn but in the end, both had been granted their wish and both were satisfied with the outcome.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


The rest of the day was spent pleasantly enough. Dismissing Pod after praising him for his performance allowed the boy to celebrate the tournament with the other squires. She tried not to think too much of what that would mean.

She sat with Jaime and Addam and listened to their own squire stories. Stories which got wilder as the evening turned into night and alcohol had warmed the two friends’ blood. 

“... he then proceeded to run like the Others were after him! He was still thrashed by Lord Crakehall for the jape through!” finished Addam with a booming laugh. “He was forced to clean horse manure for a sennight after that!”

Brienne having drunk a little mead herself was mellow and more relaxed. That is why she didn’t hesitate to show her skepticism.

“No! You didn’t!” She looked at Jaime with wide eyes, her full and wide lips forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and Jaime rubbed his neck in embarrassment, then glared at Addam discreetly.

“My Lady! Do not trust this foolish man’s words! I couldn’t do something like that!”

“Oh don’t play High Lord with me, Jaime,” retorted Addam, “I saw you do things in Crakehall that would kill whatever good regard Lady Brienne has for you.” 

Jaime glared at him. “Likewise, Addam,” he said. 

“I do not mind,” smiled Addam who drank another mouthful of tasty Dornish wine, “do your worst!” 

“Do not mind if I will!”, snorted Jaime, thrusting his chin forward in mock disdain.

“Do not mind if I retort!” replied Addam, thrusting his chin even higher, to the point where he couldn’t see the blond-haired man anymore.

They could keep their play for all of ten seconds before they both burst in laughter. They were quickly joined by Brienne who found them too silly for words. 

After the laughter calmed down, Brienne got up and signaled the men to stay put. “My Lords, I feel tired and will retire for the night. Will I see you in the early morn for some sparring, my Lord?” At Jaime’s nod, she smiled then went to her tent.

Settling down on her bedding that night, some thoughts whirled in her head. She would have to change Pod’s training a little, her mind played with different options until she grew tired of it. Then, another thought came to her head. Jaime, or more particularly, his lack of sword hand. She refused to believe that he could not be a great swordsman again. There must be something to help him, something he could do… Ideas swirled around for a while, Jaime invading her mind as always when she let herself go.

Her last guilty thought was that she hadn't minded being Jaime's Lady that day. Oblivion soon swept her in its embrace soon after that.

  


  


A few days later, they saw the ruins of Harrenhal on the horizon.

While he was content with their pace, Jaime couldn’t help but remember another journey with the blonde woman riding at his side. From the way she looked at him, he guessed that it was also on her mind. Still, they had to press on.

They set their camp in the shadow of the old castle. Jaime and his companions had arrived near the rotten place in time to camp and make dinner. While he wanted to push on and get as far away as possible, he had to let his men and horses rest. 

While his men sat and ate merrily near their tents, he sat silent and closed off. He couldn’t help but watch the castle’s menacing silhouette loom over him in the night sky, lost in memories of darker times and his bowl of cold soup forgotten at his feet. He startled when a cape was wrapped around his shoulders and Brienne sat near him. He moved the cape around until it was over both their shoulders and they settled quietly. She was watching the castle too and the silence was filled with their shared memories of a darker time. 

“I do not like being here, the last time was… dreadful,” murmured Brienne.

“It wasn’t so bad,” replied Jaime, pushing away his dread to help her through her own dark feelings. “There were some good points.”

“Which one? The fight with a bear?” asked the blue-eyed woman, deadpan.

“We are still alive and it is dead by now,” pointed out Jaime for the sake of being contradictory.

“Did you enjoy the meal with Lord Bolton then?”

“It was made better after you helped me cut my meat,” he smiled in remembrance, “and I did appreciate you going for the knife even if it was not a good idea at the time.”

“It may have spared some people a lot of pain if I had gone for his throat,” she said bitterly. Butchered wolves were on both their minds. 

“It would have happened anyway, Brienne,” Jaime murmured. “If not him, then another would have helped for their shame.” He saw her bite her lip but nod in agreement. “And our death wouldn’t have helped a wit.”

They stayed silent for a while, staring at the castle which brought so much pain upon them or theirs. 

“You may not have good memories of this place but I have some,” he said lightly, trying to catch the playful atmosphere of before. 

“Which ones?” she played the game, her voice only slightly wavering.

“Well, a maiden came to me in a pink gown with fur on its collar,” he said playfully and she glared at him in return. “Then during a shared bath, this maiden stood in a fit of rightful fury and showed me her pale s-” 

“No!” Brienne said with wide eyes and a mighty blush while closing his mouth with her fingers. The rest of his face showed his mirth. “You cannot say that it was a good memory,” she squeaked mortified, “I know you are japing, Ser!”

He looked at her for a moment then took her hand in his to free his mouth. “Suit yourself,” he said with raised eyebrows, “it doesn’t change the fact that we bared ourselves to each other and it changed my life.” He looked at their intertwined fingers. “You were the first to hear my tale of woe,” he put their linked hands on his heart, “the first to believe me.” Her eyes softened and he saw them wet with unshed tears.

“Jaime,” she said with a raspy voice and he shivered.

‘Thank you for saving me,’ he finally said quietly. Her presence was a balm to his heart. He didn’t think she understood that he thanked her for a lot more than saving him from drowning in a bath. But she had to know that he was grateful for her presence in his life.

She smiled, “You saved me too, Jaime. And more than once.” She didn’t look at him but her eyes were soft and the red staining her cheeks was maddening. She turned and looked at him, “You took care of me even when you didn’t have to…” She put her hand on his stump, “You paid a terrible price for your gallant deeds too, Ser Jaime.’ She looked sad as she caressed the scarred skin with a delicate touch. 

He gulped, for his mouth felt dry. “You saved me more. You saved my body from dying, tis’ true, but you saved my soul from wilting to nothing.” He cupped her jaw and caressed her cheek with his thumb, a movement recalling another moment in his tent. Brienne's eyes widened as well, and he liked to think that she remembered as well. “In truth, you saved me in every way a man can be saved… dear Brienne.” the last part was added with fervor. He actually would have kissed her if she hadn’t burrowed her red face in his neck in a bout of bashfulness.

He inhaled and exhaled slowly to calm down. It was better that way he told himself. How could he explain kissing her without giving away his whole plan? He really couldn’t do anything about it without giving away the game. And it was too early for that. But he would entice her, slowly and carefully bringing her to the point where she will want him as much as he wanted her.

  


\----------------------------------------

  


Another four days brought them in view of King’s Landing, the capital extending for miles in front of them. Those last miles had been difficult for Jaime. This journey with Brienne convinced him that he had to get to King’s Landing. To marry her as soon as the Gods permitted. His impatience made him push everyone harder, and the last legs of the journey were spent riding from dawn to dusk with just enough halts for people and horses to rest their tired bodies. He could see his future dangling near his grasp and it filled him with determination.

The other reason for his haste was Brienne herself. As they approached King’s Landing, he saw  
the confidence in what they had slowly wither away. He knew that she will struggle in the Capital, that the snakes there will test her gentle character to its utmost limits. She had agreed to help him _in part because of the ‘debt’ but mostly out of generosity_ but was probably just realizing what an undertaking it was. He wouldn’t let her out of his sight, but he had little hope of her not getting hurt by callous words. He didn’t even want to think about Cersei and Brienne near each other, and Tyrion so far away… 

He had helped his brother escape after Oberyn’s death, taking him straight to a boat with Varys’ help. He didn’t get any letter but hoped that his brother was safe and sound, enjoying himself in whorehouses with wine always in his hand. He certainly hoped he enjoyed the free cities for Tywin had been furious and he had had to give up on his charge as Lord Commander and become the Lord of Casterly Rock. The last time he had seen his twin sister before going to Casterly, she had been as icy as the Wall and as furious as the Drowned God. She had slapped him for letting Joffrey’s murderer escape _no matter that he was their brother_ and had told him to go away. He had been devastated, unaware at that time that she was a shameless cock-obsessed whore. Tyrion’s innuendos, Lancel’s confession and the spies that she had the brazenness to send to his camp _ and that he had ‘talked to' _ had all confirmed that. No matter that seeing him with Brienne will probably revive her possessive tendencies. He will have to be very careful.

But wasn’t it the point? 

He wanted to take control over his life. He will not suffer more manipulations from his father and sister. He will not accept Brienne’s avoidance anymore. There were some inevitable truths that the people around him needed to accept. 

Brienne needed to understand that he loved her and will not live without her. His father needed to understand that too. No maneuver will change that fact. Cersei needed to let go of him. His time as her toy was over and if she tried to hurt his future wife; he did not bear the thought. The rest of the clan will follow Tywin’s edit. And if Tywin proved stubborn… well, he knew of another father who will enjoy getting his daughter back and a son-in-law as a gift. Jaime of Tarth had a beautiful ring to it, very dashing. 

It was time people danced to his tune and his plan will put everybody in their place, where he wanted them, for a change. 

A resolute smile adorned his face as Brienne and Addam joined him, all three of them gazing at the Red Keep standing in the distance. Addam was joking about how much taverns he will visit and his beloved looked clearly uneasy, a clear frown on her face and her lips pressed together in displeasure. He only felt more resolute, to go to the Red Keep, get what he wanted and get out to never come back ever again.

He clicked his tongue and his horse trotted forwards, the rest of the party after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like a husk of myself


	7. Into the snake pit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally arrive at King's Landing and the enormity of what awaits finally hits Brienne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Braimes, sorry for the long wait but here it is. The big, the bad and the ugly chapter of King’s Landing. Our favorite couple is soooo not ready for that. 
> 
> Thanks a million times to JailynnW and River_Melody_Pond who heard my cries of suffering because of this chapter. This chapter wouldn’t be seen without their huge contribution so a big Hurrah for them! If you have time, go check their stuff. Their fics are amazing and they have a plot, which is more than I can say. I just run around like a chicken with its head cut off. Still, it is finally done. 
> 
> Thanks to my braime friends and all the readers who wait patiently for my updates. I know that it’s hard sometimes and there is fear that the fic will just stay in the end, unresolved. Not the case here, it just takes me a freakin long time to write. I demand your continued patience. In exchange, I will always strive to give you the best chapter I can produce. 
> 
> Thanks to all who put the effort and time to read, kudo, comment on my story. You all rock!
> 
> Ok, take care and put your mask and gloves before you dive in!
> 
> Disclaimer: Not mine of course. Thank you GRRM for creating such amazing characters. I certainly do not feel bored. I hope the confinement will lead to the next book. I think God wanted to see what happens with Stoneheart and sent the corona to put GRRM in isolation.

  


  


Brienne was riding with the rest of the Lannister party in the streets of King’s Landing. She couldn’t see herself from the outside but she was sure that she looked composed enough. Much more than the way she really felt inside. Inside… She was dying to run away. Just turn her horse around and ride as fast as she could from this wretched place. She wanted to go _home_ in a visceral way. 

She swallowed hard to stop the feeling from rising higher and choke her. She looked around at the bleakness all around her and that was staring back at her. She had seen plenty on her quest to find Sansa but here it was concentrated. She had forgotten. A nearly overwhelming cloud of misery, pestilence, poverty, despair and empty eyes were looking at her, judging her and only her high seat on her mare prevented her from choking on it. From the depths of the cloak that Jaime had insisted they all wear to cross the streets, she raised her head and watched the Red Keep engulf them all in its menacing shadow. She pursed her lips. To think that she was voluntarily going there. She must be mad. 

She shivered. She had no way to defend herself in that place. She knew it very well. Last time had shown her how unprepared she was against the darkness that lurked under the bright silks and the dizzying spark of the jewels living there. Only Jaime could convince her to come back to that hole. Only him. But oftentimes, she had seen the man he had been before when he had walked in the perfumed alleys of the Red Keep’s gardens with her. The arrogant son of a Lord with an easy barb at hand. He had often lost sight of himself in that poisonous place and its vicious habitants. She felt a sudden wave of resentment, something close to hate, for the man. He asked too much and all of her was rebelling against the idea to expose herself to the vicious claws and teeth waiting to tear her to pieces. All for a man who did not love her. For a mummery that will only bring her hurt and heartbreak. 

She stopped her horse, not able to advance further. Her face twisted under the hood hiding her face. She could feel the despair around her take hold of her heart and squeeze it tight. What was she doing? She will not survive this time. Not with her feelings so raw. 

“My Lady...Ser,” came the tentative voice of her squire. He had stopped near her, trying to keep his horse calm while stealing worrying glances at her face. She suddenly saw that the whole party had stopped to look at her, she could feel Jaime green eyes on her like a weight. She immediately looked down and felt herself blush in mortification. She was not alone anymore. No matter what will be the outcome with Jaime, wherever he went back to his sister; she had somebody who counted on her to protect him. Her little Pod. She had to be strong. She _will_ be strong.

“It is nothing, Pod,” she forced herself to say, “let us rejoin the others.” They began to trot again towards the group of soldiers until they were all riding again towards their destination.

“Is there a problem, Brienne,” asked Jaime who had fallen behind to ride by her side, leaving Addam at the head of the group. 

“None, my Lord,” she said softly. She cursed him in her mind. He was far too observant for her own good. She knew him enough to know that his cavalier attitude hid a sharply perceptive mind. Even after her answer, he was still watching her from the corner of his eyes. She bit her lips, she had not addressed him in that manner since the beginning of their arrangement. She could see Pod look at her in a puzzled manner and she tensed. She had to calm down.

“Pod, go and ask Addam about your future duties in the Red Keep.” Jaime’s voice was nonchalant but she was not relishing the incoming conversation. 

Pod looked at her first and she thanked the Gods for blessing her with such a wonderful squire, “You can go, Pod.” He nodded and she watched him ride towards the head of the group, leaving her and Jaime in an empty bubble of space between the head and rear of the convoy. She tensed again, a wave of goosebumps on her skin at the idea of being near Jaime when she was so frazzled. 

They rode in silence for a little time until Jaime said, “Is there any way I could alleviate your worries, Brienne?” 

“I… I am not worried,” she denied unconvincingly. 

Jaime snorted, “That would make one of us. I am dreading our return to this cesspit.”

She jerked in her saddle and turned surprised eyes in his direction. He was already watching her and she flushed, “You are worried. Why?” His gaze was fixed on the castle in front of them and he did look tense.

“You know that we will have to convince everyone that we are engaged,” he said and she bristled at the insinuation that she had forgotten.

“Hum,” she agreed softly, a bitter smile gracing her lips for a second. She never _forgot_. Every time he had acted her as her betrothed had been engraved in her mind and she had to remind herself that it was all a play. It kept her awake for hours at night, praying the Gods to give her strength to survive this ordeal with her heart intact, not to let herself fall prey to the illusion. She wanted sometimes to tear her useless heart from her chest and throw it away. It was only a source of unwanted pain. There was no pleasure to be had in suffering from unrequited love. Twice she did and that time was much more excruciating than the other. 

“Yet,” he continued lightly, “despite your furious expression, you just called me ‘my Lord’.” She took a deep breath. “I know better than to think that you would be careless, Brienne. I suppose that the fact that we are close to the Red Keep is the cause of your slip.”

The fact that he was serious pushed her to be honest, “I do not... like being there.” She chose her words with care, trying to convey her feelings with as much tact as she could. After all, his family lived there. _He_ had lived there for a good part of his life.

Jaime guffawed this time, “You can be honest with me. I hate this rotten castle. May it crumble to the ground, never to rise again.” It could have been a jape but his eyes showed how serious he was about it. She supposed it was true. After all, he had horrible experiences here too. But, _she_ was there. And while Jaime had claimed that he was through with her, it didn’t mean that _he_ really was. Or even that _she_ was. It was easy to claim and make himself believe that he didn’t love her anymore when he was far away from her. But soon they will be in each other's presence and Brienne will be in between the twins. Who knew what price she will have to pay for interfering. 

They were approaching the main gate of the castle and she could see the Gold cloaks at its foot. Addam was already there talking with them. And she felt that she was going to her death. They passed the guards and crossed the bridge that linked the Castle to the capital. At its end, a small group of Lannister soldiers was standing around Tywin Lannister and the Queen. She stopped involuntarily again, unable to continue. Automatically, Jaime stopped and all the others after him. She looked at him and shook her head faintly, unable to make a sound. She didn’t want to go. She couldn’t. 

He took her hand in his, gripping it hard, “You are not alone. I am with you, ready to offer you unconditional support.” As always, he had guessed accurately what was her deepest fear. He whispered fiercely, “We are a unit, Brienne. Remember, apart we will fail. Together, there is nothing we cannot accomplish.” He was piercing her with his sharp green eyes and his conviction seemed strong. However… She looked away, indecisive.

“Do not doubt me now, Brienne,” he pressed harder on her hand. “I need you to trust me just a little more. I need your help, please.” His voice was pleading and she felt herself crumble, once again, in the face of his plea for her help. She couldn’t help but want to shield his back to the best of her abilities. 

She still felt cold but panic had receded a little after he talked to her. She nodded wordlessly with a worried frown. He raised her hand to his lips and he thanked her gravely. He pressed his lips hard on the back of her hand and released her after one last glance to command the men to ride further. Helpless, she followed. 

  


  


A few steps away from the members of his family, he dismounted then waited for Brienne to do the same. He took a few deep breaths to steel himself against the conversation with his father. Then another few to shake the feelings that Brienne’s genuine fear had given him. 

He had known that she was dreading their time in King’s Landing. He felt the same. He had enjoyed their time at the camp or even on the road. He wouldn’t have minded more of the same as long as they were together. He couldn’t blame her when he felt it too. But this had been something else. Real fear, potent in its intensity. When she had looked at him, speechless and pale, he had finally understood how much she was fearing what was coming. He had seen her brave countless of impossible situations with remarkable aplomb. When battling a bear, she had still found the courage to tell him to get behind her when he had jumped in the pit. Now the mere sight of his father and sister drove her to retreat. 

Part of him was panicking. Would she run away? Would it be the point that would turn her away from him, sick of him and all his problems? He had never believed she would but at that moment… Then the other part of him had seen an opportunity. He had gripped her hand. It was his turn to take care of her, to be her anchor in the same way she had been his in the Riverlands. He wanted her to rely on him, he needed her to believe in his capacity to defend her. No better place than the Red Keep to show his might, the lion’s fierce capacity to protect his mate by tearing their enemies to shreds.

She dismounted and gave her reins to Pod who moved away with both their horses. She looked at him, the fear still present but determination to be there for him was fighting for supremacy. He thanked the Gods for putting such a woman on his path, no matter how undeserving he was. He raised his left hand and she barely hesitated before putting her own trembling hand on it. He caressed her knuckles with his thumb once before leading her to his father. 

“Father,” he nodded dutifully. “Sister,” he added in a neutral tone. “It has been too long since we last met.” He took Brienne’s hand in his left and brought her close. “Please, allow me to introduce my betrothed, the Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

Tywin’s eyes became sharp while Cersei threw daggers at them with her eyes, her hate for Brienne obvious. Still, the most daring hurdle was not his sister, Jaime knew. He had to get his father’s approval, then everything will be easier. 

“It is my pleasure to meet you again, Lord Hand.” Brienne bowed low in deference. She bowed again in Cersei’s direction, “your Grace.”

“You still do not manage to master the curtsy in all your time away, Lady Brienne.” Cersei’s voice was cutting and Brienne stiffened near him. He was about to warn his sister when Tywin interfered. 

“Do not listen to my daughter, Lady Brienne. Your compliment, if a little singular for a young lady, was heartfelt.” Tywin was talking to Brienne but staring at Cersei until the proud woman bowed her head in angry submission. Tywin left his gaze on her just a bit more, for effect, then turned to Jamie and Brienne. “Also, it’s Lady Tyrell now.”

_Poor fellow_, thought Jaime instantly. 

This instant reaction reassured him. Before he would have burned with jealousy but he knew better now. He knew how vile she was and any amorous feeling had been washed effectively away from his heart. He could look at her with disinterested eyes. There was nothing in his mind but the tiniest amount of pity he would feel for anyone who got saddled with his sister. And the fact that it was Loras who had threatened to slay Brienne killed that sentiment very quickly. He felt Brienne squirm minutely at his side and he put his hand on her back, part warning and part reassurance. He made a point of not looking at his twin and kept his eyes on his father. 

He seemed to have passed some test for Tywin nodded and continued, “We expected your arrival in two days.”

“We made as good a time as we could. Fortunately, we had good roads, excellent weather, and enduring company. We were all determined to come as soon as we could manage,” Jaime answered. His father nodded curtly and the blond man sighed internally. If his father had been dissatisfied, he would have made it known. As it was, it was the best he could hope for. “I would like to dismiss my men for they must be in want of rest. The horses need tending too.” 

His father nodded, “Obviously. Your men will be welcome in the soldiers’ barracks, the knights will be assigned rooms in the Red Keep.” Jaime nodded at Addam who nodded back and took the company with him. Tywin nodded, “You and your betrothed will be housed in Maegor’s Holdfast. You will take her to her quarters and refresh yourself, then come to the tower of the Hand. We have quite a few matters to discuss. Lady Brienne,” the patriarch bowed to her.

“Lord Hand,” she said immediately while bowing back.

His father gave them one last look before walking away, bidding Cersei to come with him. His sister left immediately but not before throwing a malevolent glare their way.

That hurdle behind them, he relaxed and could feel Brienne do the same besides him. “There,” he smiled faintly, “it wasn’t so bad.” 

The glare she gave him showed exactly how she felt about his assessment.

  


  
“And please assure that your betrothed is ready for her presentation to the King tonight,” added Tywin when his son got up his chair. Jaime’s face twisted for a second before smoothing out and he bowed in agreement. He then walked out of the Hand of the King’s solar.

Tywin rolled his eyes before taking a sip of wine. Why was his son surprised with that request befuddled him. Of course, he would want the girl to act the way she should in the Throne Room. Now that she was Jaime’s betrothed, he expected her to be an example for the masses… as much as she was able to. He closed the ledgers of Casterly that were spread on the table. The long review of the castle’s accounts, as well as the reports from their army’s officers, made him nod. He was relatively satisfied with Jaime’s command of the army and his grip as acting Lord Lannister. He had done better than he would have credited him. But that was before _she_ came back. 

That Brienne of Tarth was puzzling him greatly. What kind of hold did this woman have on his son? What kind of dark enchantment was afoot to bring Jaime, back and back again, to this ugly girl? Like he couldn’t contain himself, like he couldn’t help it. 

She looked inoffensive, if not simple, yet she had pushed Jaime into making despicable choices time and time again. Notwithstanding the fact that she was the one to bring his illustrious son in chains across Westeros which was reason enough to cut her head; she was the reason he lost his sword hand. She was the reason he jumped into a bearpit. She was the one Jaime gave a priceless sword to, a sword that was supposed to be an heirloom nonetheless. They had lost Brightroar and then another valyrian sword to a silly girl nearly as soon as they had it. He had been glad when Jaime had sent her away, hoping to never see her again. The sword had been a steep price to pay but a price he still thought as necessary to see her gone. He had thought his son over that folly of his.

Only for tidings to be reported back to him, many moons later, of a lady with a valyrian sword entering the Lannister encampment and installing herself as his son’s betrothed. He had scarcely believed the messenger who told him that. He had hoped that the woman would disappear on her own, disgusted by camp life and its rigors. He had refused to believe it for a full moon, no matter the reports he was getting. At least, there was no improper conduct except some obvious marks of partiality from his son. The lady was apparently very proper -- at least in that subject -- and there had been no hint of any seduction being conducted in the shadows. He definitively hoped so. He could forgive Jaime for having mistresses if he kept them secret and did not plant his seed unthinkingly. But taking a nobleborn woman as a mistress would have been hard to hide and forced Jaime to marry her and Tywin to accept the alliance, no matter that Tarth was not a prestigious house. 

Still, he had to watch them closely and he had finally recalled them to the Capital. He hadn’t wanted to do that because it officially brought them to King’s Landing as betrothed however he couldn’t push that anymore. Better to have them under his thumb to make or break. His choice would pretty much depend on how they will act at Court.

How much was her manipulation and how much was his son’s will at work there? Who was the driving force behind this unbelievable alliance? More importantly, what was their motivation for doing so? They both were well-known for vehemently evading the ties of marriage. The girl was infamous for breaking one of her intended’s bones to escape from an alliance with him. To hear of them agreeing to an alliance together without external forces at work there was highly suspicious. 

He would keep silent… for now. However, if he got just a whisper of wrongdoing, he will put an end to this farce with prejudice.  


  


  


“The Lord of Casterly Rock, Jaime Lannister and his promised, Lady Brienne of Tarth!”

The announcement made the whole Court look at them as they entered the room. Brienne was cringing inside, and she felt a bead of sweat run slowly down her temple.

That, and her clammy hands were the only proof of her nerves as her face was as serene as she could make it. As they entered the ballroom to pay their respects to the royal couple, Brienne asked herself for the twentieth time how she got into this situation. Looking at Jaime's smirking face, so near hers, she remembered why.

Lannisters and their debts.

Lord Tywin had wanted them to make a grand entrance and there was no way to avoid the disagreeable chore, no matter how much she hated it. She knew that Jaime hated too even if he hid his feelings about the situation even better than she did. She permitted herself one squeeze to his left hand to remind herself that she wasn’t alone and he squeezed back as strongly. Then he led her to the Iron Throne as surely as he had taken her to greet his father that morn. While she looked straight ahead, her vision was good enough that she could catch the expressions of some of the courtiers waiting on the sides. And her ears were good too but even they couldn’t get anything in the hushed whispers that were accompanying them on their way to the boy King. She didn’t need Jaime’s help to understand that most of the words would be unkind.

She knew that the Throne room was a big space, yet it had never felt as long as at this moment. Jaime’s hand was holding hers in the air between them with a grace that she couldn’t replicate, even if the dress he had gifted her with was the most flattering she had ever worn. She forced herself not to look down as Jaime had instructed longly beforehand. 

She contained a reflexive grimace at the memory.

_  
_

_“Ladies,” a merry -- and male -- tone was heard near the newly opened door. _

_Brienne jerked away from the ministrations of her two ‘kind’ chambermaids as they gasped and giggled at Jaime’s entry. Brienne rolled her eyes even as she thanked him in her head for saving her from the perils of womanly pampering. She then frowned when she saw him thank the girls and tell them to get out, leaving them soon alone in the room. _

_“Jaime,” she hissed with narrowed eyes as he threw a bundle on the bed, “what will people say about this?” He didn’t look at her as he hummed a tone, opening the dark linen containing the parcel with a satisfied smile. “Jaime,” she hissed louder, blushing heavily. **She** could think of what they would say._

_“They will probably say that the Lady of Tarth’s handsome betrothed came to see her before the ball,” he replied nonchalantly. “Which is exactly what we want people to think.”_

_“We do not want them to think that we are doing im…” she forced herself to continue despite his arched eyebrow, “improper things before we are married, my Lord.” She blushed when he smiled at her mischievously, dimples prominent on his cheeks. _

_His mirth at her embarrassment was obvious. “And what would the Maid of Tarth know of **improper** things?” The last words were said with a blatant sexual undertone. She snarled at him and hunched more on her chair, refusing to answer lest he replied with something even more outrageous._

_Of course, he burst out laughing. So she threw her brush at him. The little cry he gave when the silver implement impacted on his chest was music to her ears. She took great care to hide the vindictive smile wanting to burst on her lips while he rubbed his chest with a grimace._

_“Leaving **improper** topics aside,” he continued and she growled deep in her throat, making him put his hands up in surrender even as he still smiled, “I came bearing gifts.” He then turned to her. “You are a unique woman, wench,” he smiled at her as he let his eyes roam on whatever part of her he could see. She scowled even if she didn’t get up from her chair. She had just finished her bath and she had luckily put her chemise before he came. Yet the material was a little soaked in some places and she felt curiously naked wearing only that in his presence. She hooked her right foot behind her left, a move she only did when she felt extremely nervous. “Needless to say, I do not trust anyone else but me to provide you with a fitting dress. Come and see. I am glad that I had already commissioned you something the last time you were there. I just had to send a raven when we were on our way to ask the seamstress to sew more gowns for you before we arrived.” He mentioned the spread on the bed and she pushed her chest into the back of the chair, making herself as small as possible on her seat._

_“You… you shouldn’t have,” she blushed at the idea that he had considered that small detail. Her body warmed up when she reflected on his kind attention to her when she hadn’t spent a single thought on her toilette. Her temperature rose even more when she pondered on him knowing enough of her to guess her measurements right. _

_“Of course, I had to,” he dismissed with a frown, “You came here for my sake. The most I could do is provide you with good armor.”_

_She jerked and frowned, “Jaime, you already gave me armor.” She pouted, “Also, I refuse to owe you _another_ debt because of _another_ armor.”_

_He laughed softly, a deep rumble that made her shiver, and came to stand in front of her. He bowed gallantly and said, “This is another kind of armor, my Lady.” He took her hand in his and walked backwards until she had no choice but get up and follow._

_They approached the bed and she saw a splendid gown made with the deepest shade of blue. She couldn’t help but caress the fabric with her middle finger and gasp at the quality of the material. It was as soft as the petal of a rose. She finally drew back, perplexed, “Jaime, this not an armor. This is a gown… a beautiful one but-”_

_She stopped when Jaime moved to step close to her, close enough that she could feel his breath on her chin and his hand on her farthest hip, keeping her close. She didn’t dare breathe. “It is armor, a courtier’s armor. We are going to war tonight, Brienne. This,” he waved at the length of blue material, “will be your mail.” His hand caressed the fabric over her hip and she swayed slightly. “They will criticize everything, from my stump to your lack of courtly manners. They do not care that you can kill them with one stroke of your sword,” he was saying fiercely and she couldn’t help but look at him, transfixed by his ardor. “They will only see your clumsy courtesy. Instead of praising you for being a woman of quality, one who took the time to make something worthwhile with her life; they will mock the fact that you cannot be as hypocritical as them,” he spat with disgust. _

__

_She blushed heavily and looked down, he had never said so many beautiful things about her at once. The way he spat his words, the tone of his voice, all showed his contempt for the nobles of the Court. For once she took what he said at face value. And she was glad for once in her life to be different enough to deserve his respect. “Thank you,” she whispered as she closed her eyes and tried to enclose his words in her heart so she never forgot them._

__

_She opened her eyes again when he coughed near her, “Anyway,” he said nonchalantly, scratching his bearded cheek with his fingers while looking at the gown, “the war at Court begins with the battle of the cloth. It begins by choosing the right kind of armor. You cannot wear frills nor pink, wench, it just doesn’t suit you.” She nodded, shuddering at the memory of a pink dress. Jaime nodded with pursed lips. She just knew he concealed a grin, it was obvious by the crow’s feet etched in the corner of his eyes. She growled and after a twitch of his lips, he got serious again. “So a fancy gown is not the way to go. You are a very dignified woman.” She looked down, embarrassed at what she saw as a default. “As such you need a gown that will put this quality of yours forward.” He looked at the gown, then at her. “You need velvet and blue, a classic and rich fabric. This,” he put his finger under her chin and raised it up until her head was straight, “will help you walk with your head held high, my Lady.”_

__

_Brienne blinked. She never thought that she would be fascinated by a talk about… clothes. She blinked at Jaime a few times, her mouth open in surprise. “How do you know all that?”_

_He opened his mouth to answer then stopped. After looking at her for a long moment, he shrugged. Brienne’s eyes narrowed. “You have to learn these things if you want to survive in the Red Keep.”_

_Her eyes narrowed even more but she stayed silent. That was not what he had wanted to say. Before she could ask him about it, he took the gown in one hand and gave it to her, “Put it on, I want to see how it looks like on you.”_

_Brienne gaped at him. It took her a few tries to utter a breathy, “What?”_

_He sat on the bed then smiled at her. “Put the dress on,” he enunciated slowly and she growled at him, making him roll his eyes. Since when her most menacing face had lost its threatening effect on the Lannister? “I want to see if the seamstress did a commendable work. If so, I will ask for more gowns to be made.”_

_“Jaime,” she protested, “you already said that you commissioned other gowns. I do not need more than a few. Also,” she crossed her hands on her chest, “I will not put it on with you in the room.”_

_“I promise I will not look,” he said childishly and he turned his back on her, facing the door. “You see, my Lady. Nothing **improper**.” She pursed her lips to not laugh at his ridiculous attitude even as she was tickled by his amused tone. He would not stop doing it afterwards. She approached him silently and twisted his ear between her thumb and index finger. She then led him to the door despite his protests and mock cries of pain until he was outside. Even as she put her back on the door, he knocked and told her that she had until he was ready to be done. Despite his playful tone, she knew a threat when she heard one and recalled the chambermaids to help her with the dress as soon as she could. _

_When he came back later, looking extraordinary in his burgundy doublet and black hose and boots, he nodded in satisfaction at her appearance. He then stood in front of her and took the air of the dourest maester, “Now, my Lady. We need to prepare for the second battle,” he bowed gracefully to her and smiled, “the battle of poise.”_

_Brienne blanched. _

__

She groaned internally as she thought of the barely remembered details he had told her about deportment in Court. He had been an exacting taskmaster and they had both been exhausted at the end of his lesson. Thankfully, she did know a lot of it. After all, she was a noble-born and had been educated as such by Septa Roelle and maester Bolin. However, she had deliberately buried most of it in the recesses of her mind, sure that she would never have any use for it.

Amusingly, it hadn’t been by personal choice. When she had first arrived at Renly’s camp, she had been the soft-spoken and well-mannered girl she had always been. While she trained as intensely as ever, in her free time she had still tried to be a lady of good breeding and uphold the values she had been educated with. She had often ended eating less at meals because she refused to jump on the food no matter how hungry she was. Still, she kept hoping that Renly would see her and appreciate her good character. That he would look her way and see how hard she tried to give a good example; that war did not mean that people had to act like animals. Renly was sensitive to that and she strove to follow both their ways.

After the bet, and especially Tarly’s shaming words, something had broken in her. She finally recognized that good manners gave you no favors when you are ugly. She had been mocked, sometimes to her face, by men who pretended to be knights. Even foot soldiers had looked down on her and still she had worked hard to keep her principles to heart and her head held high. She had given herself one night to cry on the shred of softness she still had inside -- the same way she had when she cut her long hair to join the war -- and she killed the lady to leave only the warrior. Then she had found the knights of the bet and trashed them thoroughly. 

She had learned to be harder, to provoke and say hurtful things, to fight for her honor and to get crumbs of respect. She became as manly as she was reproached to be. It didn’t silence the mocking voices but at least some of the insults were deserved this time. 

Now she had to go back to her soft shell and she didn’t know if she could do it. When she had renounced to be a Lady, she had cried on the loss of the soft part of her heart. Yet, after some time, she had felt some relief. There had been some liberation in cursing, in gauding someone to a fight when she wanted, in sometimes hurting someone who hurt her back. When she had first known Jaime, she had often been driven to anger but she had tried to give as good as she got. Sometimes, some of his japes had been amusing -- even if she will never tell him that. 

Being a knight had given her much more than being a Lady. Being in the Red Keep, she was already at a disadvantage and that was while being a knight. What will happen to the Lady? She was afraid to think about it. She also had no time to give to that subject as they had reached the dais in which the Iron Throne was situated. Using Jaime’s hand as support, she gave a deep and decent curtsy while Jaime bowed deep. While she must have been heavy, his arm did not flinch for a second, supporting her with his strength. Luckily, they were soon permitted to stand again. 

Remembering her last time at court when King Joffrey had gazed upon her with eyes full of derision, she took a deep breath and braced herself when King Tommen began to speak.

“Uncle Jaime,” said Tommen with sincere joy, “we are pleased to see you finally attached to someone. We hope that your future union will bring you as much happiness as it brings to us,” he finished with a kind smile. 

“Thank you for your kind wishes, my King,” said Jaime with a softer smile and a slight bow, as Brienne bowed as well with a shy smile. He must have felt her shudders, for he squeezed the hand looped around his right arm lightly. 

“Yes, my king is right. We both rejoice at your future union and wish you the best. I hope you will let me help you with the preparations for this grand occasion, Lady Brienne,” added Queen Margaery with a charming smile. 

“I will gladly accept your help, my Queen,” said Brienne with as much grace as she could muster. 

Lord Tywin was observing them with shrewd eyes while his twin, former queen Cersei Lannister, looked at her with such contempt that she began to slip her hand away from his. Only for her appendage to be forcefully maintained where it was by a harsh pressure on it. Jaime brought her reluctant hand to his face and kissed it, “We cannot wait to be united, my sweet Maid and I.” She couldn’t help but blush at those words and at the meaning she gave to them in her head. He was looking adoringly into her eyes and she forced herself to replicate, “so any advice would be welcomed”. 

Another round of shallow nods and bows were given and they were allowed to move back and away from the Throne to give place to another noble. 

Brienne prayed for the night to be done with already.

  


  


Jaime led a sleepy Brienne back to her room. Due to the nature of tonight’s ball, they had to stay until late. Much later that they both would have wanted and especially after having been on the road for so long. 

They had barely gotten through their royal introduction as a couple when they had been nearly attacked by his family. The Lannister clan came in groups to talk to them, their curiosity palpable in the air, Like hunting cats, their eyes were keenly observing them, their nostrils flaring in anticipation, their observations barely contained between trembling lips. 

Fortunately, Cersei was too busy observing Tommen and his queen to be with them. However, it didn’t mean that the gathering had been easy for him. Between his father, his uncle Kevan, his aunt Genna and the rest of his relatives present in the Capital, Jaime had a hard time keeping their story straight. He was grateful that Brienne seldom talked, thrusting him to maneuver the troubled waters of his family and court’s politics. While she didn’t help, he still felt strong with her by his side. He laughed boldly at his younger cousins' bawdy insinuations and even playfully flirted with his wench only to see her blush under his gaze. It was well worth the pain brought by the slaps in the arm she would give him in her embarrassment. In the end, he had seen his beloved’s eyes flutter close from exhaustion and had given their excuses. 

Brienne was leaning heavily on his side, walking only by pure stubbornness. He didn’t mind her weight on him. If he wasn’t so exhausted himself, he would have enjoyed it immensely, even maybe teased her as he was wont to do. Still, he loved this moment between them, the silence that came from the deep knowledge of one another and real complicity. If he concentrated enough, he could smell her clear scent mixed with a hint of flowers. Something discreet and barely noticeable like its wearer. 

They finally reached her chambers and he opened the wooden door, taking care to keep Brienne at his side. “Finally,” she breathed in relief and he shivered as the word reached his ear, her warm breath caressing his skin. 

“Yes,” he whispered as he closed the door behind them, “You need to go to bed, wench.” He smiled as he felt her nod against his shoulder. She had sagged even more against him after he closed the door and he understood how guarded she was when they were walking in the Red Keep.

Wanting to keep her by his side just a little more, he looked at the room she had been attributed. While the chambers were not as sumptuous as his were, they were nicely decorated and contained anything a woman could need. On the side was a big copper tub and he bit his lip at its sight, their bath at Harrenhal flashing again in his mind. To divert himself, he asked gruffly, “Are you satisfied with your accommodations, Brienne? I could find a better room if you so desire.”

She grunted negatively and detached herself from him to walk clumsily to the dressing table. He gave himself a moment to regret the lack of her body before he followed and leaned on one of the bed’s pillars to watch her. “Jaime,” she said while washing her face and neck with a wet cloth, “those chambers are already too grand. Last time I just had a little room with not enough space for a tub. This room is perfect, not that I need so much to begin with.” She continued scrubbing and missed the way he frowned. 

He hadn’t known. He had stupidly assumed that she would get a set of good chambers because of her connection with him. He blushed when he thought of how selfish he had been. He hadn’t even asked how she fared or how she occupied herself when she wasn’t with him. He had been focused on getting back to his sister, then on saving his brother’s from his fate. How much place did he have in his mind for his Lady of Tarth then? In truth, not a lot. He was blessed to even have another chance to be with her. He will do it right this time.

“What did you do when you were alone the last time?” he demanded while still disturbed by his previous lack of care.

“Not much,” she said while combing her hair, “Lady Sansa was seldom alone so I mostly stayed in my room. Sometimes I would walk in the gardens, other times I would watch the swordmasters then find a secluded place to train. I--”

“You trained?!” Jaime spluttered in outrage. 

She turned and gave him a look, “Of course, I wanted to save Lady Sansa, I needed to keep my strength.”

Jaime cursed himself. He had paid a greedy sellsword to train with him instead of asking Brienne who would have gladly helped him because she was generous and cared for him. He suddenly frowned, something else was bothering him, “Wait, why didn’t you train with the other knights? The training grounds are extensive enough that you could have trained there, even found someone to train with.” 

She blinked at him in surprise, her mouth stupidly hanging open for a moment. She then turned swiftly on her chair making him narrow his eyes, “I… I prefer to train alone, Jaime.” He frowned more. “Also, I was a well-known Stark loyalist. Only my association with you allowed me to walk free within these walls. I didn’t want to tempt fate by walking around with a sword.” She got up, “I need to sleep, Jaime. Can we continue on the morrow?” 

He hummed in answer and her shoulders dropped a little, as if she had been tense and only just released that tension. He pursed his lips. She had just lied to him. While using true statements, she had left something unsaid, probably her real motivations. He didn’t like it. He wanted to know everything about her and he hated it when she lied by omission. 

She was not a good liar. Actually she was totally unable to lie… however, she was good at lying by omission. Not mentioning things, deflecting by throwing some logical pieces of information to hide her real opinions, those she knew how to do well enough. Something was bothering him but tiredness was pulling him down -- watching her yawn did not help -- and he decided to leave it be for the moment. “I will come to you at first light to break our fast. Is it convenient, Brienne?” 

She turned to look at him and nodded with a little smile, “Of course, good night, Jaime.”

This matter was not over yet, “Goodnight, Brienne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was good. Please comment if you have the time. I will appreciate it ^^

**Author's Note:**

> Please, I would enjoy hearing your voice and feelings about this. I would like to use your help to improve and to provide a better story. I promise an enthusiastic answer!


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